I recently wrote about how I usually expect music to be somewhat forward thinking and/or innovative or at least not a rehash of things done to death already, unless it sounds like 60's pop music. Well, here's my chance to put my money where my mouth is.
Jim Noir is a pop traditionalist, plain and simple. Don't be fooled by the synths and occasional programmed drums. The guy is stuck in 1966. Even the production and mixing of his debut record, Tower of Love, is in throwback mode. Drums in the left channel and vocals in the right? Has anybody done that on a record since the Beatles broke up? How about the "percussive" organ playing? That's a trick straight out of Brian Wilson's playbook (think "Good Vibrations"). "I Me You I'm Your" could fit right in on any Zombies record, and it's not hard to imagine "How to Be So Real" coming from somebody like Love.
Really, almost half the songs on Tower of Love could easily have been written by the Beatles. This is partly because they're so similar in harmonic structure and atmosphere, but also because they're just that good. I could spend all day saying which songs sound like which artists, but in the end, they're all keepers, and all brilliantly infectious. This is the best pure pop record I've heard in quite a long time. It's the record that Belle and Sebastian wish they could make. It's the feel-good sound of the summer.
And it's not even out in the United States yet! You all better be rushing to your closest record store on August 8.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Friday, May 19, 2006
Bush-bashing from Tom? Shocking!
One of the many things I've hated about the way George W. Bush has run the country is his tendency to make everything a black-and-white issue with no middle ground. You're with us or you're with the terrorists! You support my tax cuts or you're an evil tax-and-spend liberal! You support No Child Left Behind or you're against education! And so on and so forth. And what annoyed me almost as much is the number of people who bought it, dismissing guys like John Kerry as wishy-washy without actually realizing that what he was saying wasn't aimless and empty, it was just intelligent and nuanced.
So with that in mind, the irony presented in this article is almost too much for me.
Ahhhhh, sweet sweet schadenfreude.
So with that in mind, the irony presented in this article is almost too much for me.
Ahhhhh, sweet sweet schadenfreude.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Espers II
The new Espers album is called Espers II, but this is a misleading title for a couple reasons. For one, the band has doubled in size, and that never happens without a drastic change in sound. And as a result, Espers II doesn't really sound all that much like Espers did. The focus of the music has changed to a more group-vibe setting rather than focusing on the songs.
At any rate, this is one my most eagerly anticipated new albums, even more than the new Fiery Furnaces album. I happen to love the first Espers album, and the covers album The Weed Tree, and Greg Weeks' solo work, and I've written bits about them over and over and over and over and over.
So does it live up to my expectations? Not really, but how could it? It has real problems, though, not just failure to live up to unrealistic expectations.
For one thing, almost half of the album is filled with what can only be described as "jamming." Granted, it sounds like no Phish record you've ever heard. Maybe "freakout" would be a better term for it, in the psychedelic tradition of Syd Barrett or Jorma Kaukonen. But the Espers version of it is a plodding, dirge-like march of dread and sadness, filled out by acid guitar leads, droning vintage synthesizers, and amplified cello. This is interesting sometimes, as in the opener "Dead Queen," but eventually just gets boring, as in "Dead King." (No typos in there, "Dead Queen" and "Dead King" are both songs on the album.)
There are many fantastic moments on Espers II. "Dead Queen" has the airy sense of timelessness that was found on their first album. The folkier side also comes out for "Children of Stone," which is one of the most beautiful songs I've heard in a long time.
The best moments, though, are songs like "Widow's Weed" and "Moon Occults the Sun." These songs represent something of a step toward the evolution of folk music into something that's definitely folk, but definitely a step beyond, not quite into rock, but into something altogether new, with all the crawling apocalyptic gloom of Godspeed You Black Emperor! or A Silver Mt. Zion. Call it post-folk.
Overall, I'm not entirely sure if I like the new direction Espers have taken. It's occasionally exquisite, but somewhat inconsistent. Maybe the kinks will be worked out by their next album, because it still sounds like they're getting used to playing with actual drums sometimes. And Otto (the drummer) sounds like he's still figuring out where he fits in.
Final verdict: Espers II is a transitional album, a step in a new direction, but they haven't quite arrived at their destination. I'll value it for its many great moments, and look forward to seeing what they can do in the future.
At any rate, this is one my most eagerly anticipated new albums, even more than the new Fiery Furnaces album. I happen to love the first Espers album, and the covers album The Weed Tree, and Greg Weeks' solo work, and I've written bits about them over and over and over and over and over.
So does it live up to my expectations? Not really, but how could it? It has real problems, though, not just failure to live up to unrealistic expectations.
For one thing, almost half of the album is filled with what can only be described as "jamming." Granted, it sounds like no Phish record you've ever heard. Maybe "freakout" would be a better term for it, in the psychedelic tradition of Syd Barrett or Jorma Kaukonen. But the Espers version of it is a plodding, dirge-like march of dread and sadness, filled out by acid guitar leads, droning vintage synthesizers, and amplified cello. This is interesting sometimes, as in the opener "Dead Queen," but eventually just gets boring, as in "Dead King." (No typos in there, "Dead Queen" and "Dead King" are both songs on the album.)
There are many fantastic moments on Espers II. "Dead Queen" has the airy sense of timelessness that was found on their first album. The folkier side also comes out for "Children of Stone," which is one of the most beautiful songs I've heard in a long time.
The best moments, though, are songs like "Widow's Weed" and "Moon Occults the Sun." These songs represent something of a step toward the evolution of folk music into something that's definitely folk, but definitely a step beyond, not quite into rock, but into something altogether new, with all the crawling apocalyptic gloom of Godspeed You Black Emperor! or A Silver Mt. Zion. Call it post-folk.
Overall, I'm not entirely sure if I like the new direction Espers have taken. It's occasionally exquisite, but somewhat inconsistent. Maybe the kinks will be worked out by their next album, because it still sounds like they're getting used to playing with actual drums sometimes. And Otto (the drummer) sounds like he's still figuring out where he fits in.
Final verdict: Espers II is a transitional album, a step in a new direction, but they haven't quite arrived at their destination. I'll value it for its many great moments, and look forward to seeing what they can do in the future.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Mogwai: 5/11 @ Starlight Ballroom
"Loudness is the distance you come from being quiet." I once read that somewhere, and I can't remember who said it, and I wish I could, because I think it's brilliant.
By that standard Mogwai might be the loudest band on the planet. Few musicians in the world harness the power of dynamics like they do. Of course, they might be the loudest band on the planet anyway, measured in decibels. The bass often had me thinking about those super secret weapons in development at Area 51 that can dissolve a person's organs with a high-amplitude frequency or something like that. I felt it in every part of my body, is the point.
Anyway, some back story: I waited something like five years to see Mogwai. Unfortunately, every time they were in town I seemed to have some excuse why I couldn't go. I had to work at 5 am the next day; I had a choir concert that night; the show was an expensive festival and I wasn't about to shell out $40 for a half hour set, and so on. This was made especially painful by the fact that everybody says a Mogwai show is to die for, and they're the greatest live band on the planet, etc., etc.
Are they the greatest live band on the planet? I wouldn't say so (the Flaming Lips might hold that title forever, as far as I'm concerned), but they're pretty good nonetheless. I expected to be blown completely away for an hour and a half or so, and they managed to do that about 2/3 of the time. The other 1/3 were songs from their new album, which, as you may recall, I didn't like that much, one amazing song excepted (which they pretty much had no choice but to play, and did they ever).
Aside from the abundance of new songs (which is to be expected), it was a pretty good set. They hit all my favorites from Happy Songs for Happy People, and did a couple old nuggets from Young Team (no "Like Herod" though). One of the favorite Mogwai tricks is their ability to be playing at what seems like top volume, and then kick it up another notch into death metal territory, and this is especially effective in a live setting, even when I knew it was coming. The big explosion of noise in "Mogwai Fear Satan" kicked me in the gut even harder than it does on record. And that song is generally amazing anyway, despite its repetition.
Was it worth the wait? Who knows? It sure as hell was worth the $15, though.
ONE COMPLAINT:
I'm sick and tired of bands who end their set with 10 minutes of noise and feedback and crap like that. It's boring, people! It's disrespectful to the audience too. I could have left and gotten out of that hot room last night 10 minutes earlier, except I had to stand around watching an empty stage and listening to an uninteresting noise session waiting to make sure Mogwai weren't going to be playing anymore. Unless your name is Brian Eno, there's a 99% chance that you suck at making "soundscapes" or whatever you want to call it (or in the case of many bands, a screeching wall of feedback, in which case your name better be Jimi Hendrix or Lou Reed). The remaining 1% is Boards of Canada, the Future Sound of London, and Aphex Twin. When you're done playing, turn your amps off, and get off the damn stage.
By that standard Mogwai might be the loudest band on the planet. Few musicians in the world harness the power of dynamics like they do. Of course, they might be the loudest band on the planet anyway, measured in decibels. The bass often had me thinking about those super secret weapons in development at Area 51 that can dissolve a person's organs with a high-amplitude frequency or something like that. I felt it in every part of my body, is the point.
Anyway, some back story: I waited something like five years to see Mogwai. Unfortunately, every time they were in town I seemed to have some excuse why I couldn't go. I had to work at 5 am the next day; I had a choir concert that night; the show was an expensive festival and I wasn't about to shell out $40 for a half hour set, and so on. This was made especially painful by the fact that everybody says a Mogwai show is to die for, and they're the greatest live band on the planet, etc., etc.
Are they the greatest live band on the planet? I wouldn't say so (the Flaming Lips might hold that title forever, as far as I'm concerned), but they're pretty good nonetheless. I expected to be blown completely away for an hour and a half or so, and they managed to do that about 2/3 of the time. The other 1/3 were songs from their new album, which, as you may recall, I didn't like that much, one amazing song excepted (which they pretty much had no choice but to play, and did they ever).
Aside from the abundance of new songs (which is to be expected), it was a pretty good set. They hit all my favorites from Happy Songs for Happy People, and did a couple old nuggets from Young Team (no "Like Herod" though). One of the favorite Mogwai tricks is their ability to be playing at what seems like top volume, and then kick it up another notch into death metal territory, and this is especially effective in a live setting, even when I knew it was coming. The big explosion of noise in "Mogwai Fear Satan" kicked me in the gut even harder than it does on record. And that song is generally amazing anyway, despite its repetition.
Was it worth the wait? Who knows? It sure as hell was worth the $15, though.
ONE COMPLAINT:
I'm sick and tired of bands who end their set with 10 minutes of noise and feedback and crap like that. It's boring, people! It's disrespectful to the audience too. I could have left and gotten out of that hot room last night 10 minutes earlier, except I had to stand around watching an empty stage and listening to an uninteresting noise session waiting to make sure Mogwai weren't going to be playing anymore. Unless your name is Brian Eno, there's a 99% chance that you suck at making "soundscapes" or whatever you want to call it (or in the case of many bands, a screeching wall of feedback, in which case your name better be Jimi Hendrix or Lou Reed). The remaining 1% is Boards of Canada, the Future Sound of London, and Aphex Twin. When you're done playing, turn your amps off, and get off the damn stage.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
The Flyers and Injuries: Peas in a Pod
Now, anybody who watched even a little bit of the Flyers' 05-06 season knows they had problems with injuries. Look at this list off the top of my head of players who missed time with injuries: Forsberg, Primeau, Gagne, Johnsson, Desjardins, Pitkanen, Kapanen, Handzus, Esche, Therien, Nedved. That's almost half the team, and almost all of the non-rookies! And that's not even including the guys who played through injuries. For those keeping track, Mike Knuble was the lone Flyer to play all 82 games.
Furthermore, seven players have had surgery since Flyers were eliminated from the playoffs. And that's not including three guys who still need to be operated on for various reasons.
But just in case that wasn't enough, now there's this:
http://www.philadelphiaflyers.com/pressbox/archive/2611.asp
You know you have bad luck with injuries when your best player is already out for the first half of the season before the last season has even finished. Come on! This is getting ridiculous.
Furthermore, seven players have had surgery since Flyers were eliminated from the playoffs. And that's not including three guys who still need to be operated on for various reasons.
But just in case that wasn't enough, now there's this:
http://www.philadelphiaflyers.com/pressbox/archive/2611.asp
You know you have bad luck with injuries when your best player is already out for the first half of the season before the last season has even finished. Come on! This is getting ridiculous.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Larkin Grimm: free-folk extraordinaire
Anybody who thinks the spirit of the 1960s is dead shall henceforth be pointed in the direction of Larkin Grimm, a true flower child if there ever was one. Hell, according to her bio she was born in a commune. I saw her play at a show last night, and here some choice quotes (not verbatim, as they're mostly from memory):
"I have a lot of bad spirits in me right now. I just came from Providence, RI. That town has a lot of negativity in it, and a lot of inner conflict in the people there, but they're good hearted people, and they're fighting the negativity, and I admire that."
"This next song is about the time I was riding a tandem bicycle past the cemetery where H.P. Lovecraft is buried, and there are ghosts in there, and they're angry at me, because they're dead and I'm alive, and they're trying to inhabit my body, because they can tell I'm feeling sexual lust, which, you know, weakens your body against evil spirits."
"This song is about murdering my spirit boyfriend. A spirit boyfriend is something you don't want to have... like, it seemed okay at first when the spirit asked me out on a date, because I didn't have a real boyfriend at the time, but eventually the spirit asks you to go with them into another dimension, which you don't want to do. You want to stay in your dimension, because that's where you belong, but the spirit really doesn't belong there. It's like when you marry somebody from another country, and they want you to come back to their country. 'Hey, let's move to Finland! It'll be awesome!' You know?"
"I like Islam. I think it's a beautiful religion. It's this weird combination of sexual lust and oneness with God, and I think that's awesome."
There was another one involving falling asleep and teleporting across the Atlantic Ocean to talk to a friend or something, then waking up with burn blisters on her arm, but I forget most of that.
So she's nuts, right? Her music is nuts too, but it's also amazing. And she's an amazing performer.
She reminds me of Bjork, in that she seems relatively unassuming, if a little bit out in left field, until she opens her mouth to sing and this enormous and overpowering sound comes out. She also reminds me of Bjork in some of her, for lack of a better term, vocal histrionics (that would be latter-day Medulla Bjork, not "Hyper-Ballad" Bjork).
Whatever the reference point may be, the end result is a performance that's intense, bold, and occasionally quite beautiful. You can listen to the mp3s on her website to get an idea of her sound, but live it's just her and her guitar, and no multiple voice overdubs, no cavernous reverb and delay, no autoharp overdubs or anything. Her record (Harpoon, which I'm pegging as the first great album of 2005 that took me until 2006 to discover, happening as it did just a few weeks ago) is more interesting to listen to, but the live renditions are much more absorbing.
So, if you ever get a chance to see her live, I would highly recommend it. Just sit back and let her powerful voice sweep you away, until she pauses in between songs to regale you with a Darren Daulton-esque story that's almost as entertaining as the song, but in a completely different way. A very fun time.
"I have a lot of bad spirits in me right now. I just came from Providence, RI. That town has a lot of negativity in it, and a lot of inner conflict in the people there, but they're good hearted people, and they're fighting the negativity, and I admire that."
"This next song is about the time I was riding a tandem bicycle past the cemetery where H.P. Lovecraft is buried, and there are ghosts in there, and they're angry at me, because they're dead and I'm alive, and they're trying to inhabit my body, because they can tell I'm feeling sexual lust, which, you know, weakens your body against evil spirits."
"This song is about murdering my spirit boyfriend. A spirit boyfriend is something you don't want to have... like, it seemed okay at first when the spirit asked me out on a date, because I didn't have a real boyfriend at the time, but eventually the spirit asks you to go with them into another dimension, which you don't want to do. You want to stay in your dimension, because that's where you belong, but the spirit really doesn't belong there. It's like when you marry somebody from another country, and they want you to come back to their country. 'Hey, let's move to Finland! It'll be awesome!' You know?"
"I like Islam. I think it's a beautiful religion. It's this weird combination of sexual lust and oneness with God, and I think that's awesome."
There was another one involving falling asleep and teleporting across the Atlantic Ocean to talk to a friend or something, then waking up with burn blisters on her arm, but I forget most of that.
So she's nuts, right? Her music is nuts too, but it's also amazing. And she's an amazing performer.
She reminds me of Bjork, in that she seems relatively unassuming, if a little bit out in left field, until she opens her mouth to sing and this enormous and overpowering sound comes out. She also reminds me of Bjork in some of her, for lack of a better term, vocal histrionics (that would be latter-day Medulla Bjork, not "Hyper-Ballad" Bjork).
Whatever the reference point may be, the end result is a performance that's intense, bold, and occasionally quite beautiful. You can listen to the mp3s on her website to get an idea of her sound, but live it's just her and her guitar, and no multiple voice overdubs, no cavernous reverb and delay, no autoharp overdubs or anything. Her record (Harpoon, which I'm pegging as the first great album of 2005 that took me until 2006 to discover, happening as it did just a few weeks ago) is more interesting to listen to, but the live renditions are much more absorbing.
So, if you ever get a chance to see her live, I would highly recommend it. Just sit back and let her powerful voice sweep you away, until she pauses in between songs to regale you with a Darren Daulton-esque story that's almost as entertaining as the song, but in a completely different way. A very fun time.
Monday, May 01, 2006
More Fiery Furnaces, Radiohead, and Espers
In case you hadn't figured it out from this, this, or this, I really like the Fiery Furnaces. Nobody else in the world sounds like them, and they're great at what they do. And on top of that, they're prolific as hell. And they just keep on coming, because now Matthew Friedberger, the guy who writes all of the songs, is releasing a solo album in August. And it's a double album! Jesus, man!
So I may be alone among my friends and acquaintances in my excitement and anticipation, but I can't wait for it to come out. I should be done digesting Bitter Tea just in time for the solo album. And check out some of these song titles: "The Pennsylvania Rock Oil Co. Resignation Letter," "Holy Ghost Language School," "I Started Drinking Alcohol at the Age of Eleven," "Big Bill Crib & His Ladies of the Desert." Sounds typically insane.
On top of all that, the Fiery Furnaces are playing at the TLA on June 27. From the videos I've seen of them live, they sound pretty much nothing at all like the records, so it should be interesting, especially if they try to play anything from Rehearsing My Choir. I think I might ask Eleanor Friedberger to marry me.
Other, unrelated music news of today: Radiohead are playing two shows at the Tower Theater. As cool as it would be to see them in there, I've already seen them twice, both times I was way closer than I'll be at the Tower, the tickets are $41 before Ticketmaster's rape fees, and both shows will probably sell out faster than it took me to write this sentence. Plus the view that I held for awhile that Radiohead were gods among men seems to have subsided a couple years ago (now I only think they're very, very good). I think I'll probably have to sit this one out.
AND FINALLY:
My other recent obsession of the past year or so has been with Espers and their leader, Greg Weeks, and this is a big week for them. Wednesday night, Greg and several other Espers members will be playing at the Green Line Cafe with Larkin Grimm and Fern Knight (who are both female psych-folk artists who are pretty good). It's certainly not an Espers show. As Greg told me in an email:
"We're gonna construct a super-group drone-fest called Gypsophilia. It'll be me, Otto, Brooke, Helena, Margie, and a bunch of other folks just shootin for a vibe."
Sounds good to me! You all should go.
On Tuesday, Meg Baird is playing a show with Michael Hurley (MICHAEL FREAKING HURLEY, people!), and on Saturday is the Espers record release party for Espers II, which I have naturally downloaded a month ago, and I'm formulating my item on that in my head as we speak. Saturday is the day I'm looking forward to the most, because I got shut out of the last Espers show in Philly (although I've seen them twice already anyway, so I shouldn't complain). Check it all out here.
So I may be alone among my friends and acquaintances in my excitement and anticipation, but I can't wait for it to come out. I should be done digesting Bitter Tea just in time for the solo album. And check out some of these song titles: "The Pennsylvania Rock Oil Co. Resignation Letter," "Holy Ghost Language School," "I Started Drinking Alcohol at the Age of Eleven," "Big Bill Crib & His Ladies of the Desert." Sounds typically insane.
On top of all that, the Fiery Furnaces are playing at the TLA on June 27. From the videos I've seen of them live, they sound pretty much nothing at all like the records, so it should be interesting, especially if they try to play anything from Rehearsing My Choir. I think I might ask Eleanor Friedberger to marry me.
Other, unrelated music news of today: Radiohead are playing two shows at the Tower Theater. As cool as it would be to see them in there, I've already seen them twice, both times I was way closer than I'll be at the Tower, the tickets are $41 before Ticketmaster's rape fees, and both shows will probably sell out faster than it took me to write this sentence. Plus the view that I held for awhile that Radiohead were gods among men seems to have subsided a couple years ago (now I only think they're very, very good). I think I'll probably have to sit this one out.
AND FINALLY:
My other recent obsession of the past year or so has been with Espers and their leader, Greg Weeks, and this is a big week for them. Wednesday night, Greg and several other Espers members will be playing at the Green Line Cafe with Larkin Grimm and Fern Knight (who are both female psych-folk artists who are pretty good). It's certainly not an Espers show. As Greg told me in an email:
"We're gonna construct a super-group drone-fest called Gypsophilia. It'll be me, Otto, Brooke, Helena, Margie, and a bunch of other folks just shootin for a vibe."
Sounds good to me! You all should go.
On Tuesday, Meg Baird is playing a show with Michael Hurley (MICHAEL FREAKING HURLEY, people!), and on Saturday is the Espers record release party for Espers II, which I have naturally downloaded a month ago, and I'm formulating my item on that in my head as we speak. Saturday is the day I'm looking forward to the most, because I got shut out of the last Espers show in Philly (although I've seen them twice already anyway, so I shouldn't complain). Check it all out here.
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