A Coyote's Kingdom

"Isn't it great when bands know exactly what they want to sound like, and pull it off?" An air of frustration to his question, Patrick Seick, singer, songwriter + rhythm guitarist for Seattle sextet The Coyotes, poses this inquiry during an opening act's set. Puzzled, I turned and agreed. Undoubtedly, this statement is true; something The Ramones or The Hold Steady, for example, know all too well. An hour later, The Coyotes take the stage in what was now their 5th incarnation that I've had the pleasure of taking in. Their pastiche approach aside, at least during their most transcendent moments on record and in concert, The Coyotes are as distinctively excellent as any band in Seattle today.

Their sets have ranged from solo acoustic balladry to full scale aural assaults, but at their best The Coyotes' sound is relatively straightforward to describe. It is music for American outlaws. In large part, The Coyotes' songs are in line with mid 20th century country and western, with immediate chord progressions and hummable melodies, but Seick piles his songs with just enough reverb, gain and other assorted noise to take things just beyond the comfort of Porter Wagoner territory into an air of unease. Lyrically, he spins tales that are either entirely abstract or about the finer points of light subjects like alcoholism, bestiality, and drowning. Call it the eerier side of Americana.

If the Coyotes fancy themselves an amalgam of Waylon Jennings and Swans, I've always heard traces of Nick Cave and Calexico. Seick has a terrific ear for hooks and brings confidence and swagger to his singing in The Coyotes' most forceful songs. Rarely does their material trudge into dirgey grounds. When they retreat to a more plaintive and calm approach, Seick's singing is positively tender, healing. Often these turns take place within the space of a single song, and his band matches his turns in spades. Restrained drum patterns, simple basslines and atmospheric arpeggios pair with mellow croons, while orchestral drum cascades and furious rhythm and lead guitar lines accompany his cocky howls and snarls. From there, any combination of airy female vocal accompaniments, electronic noise loops and soprano sax are added to the mix for good measure.

The Coyotes' Myspace Page

Self-released and self-titled, The Coyotes 2008 debut takes cues from East German poet Peter Huchel, at times using carbon copies of Huchel's poetry to compose entire songs. It's a strange introductory statement, but also a testament to The Coyotes' admiration for the unconventional. Somewhat more devoid of the pop sensibilities they're capable of, and more restrained in its delivery, Coyotes' merit is in it's being a singular, cohesive work, albeit representing only some of the band's tendencies and strengths. It's hard to listen to the album and not miss earlier Coyotes songs that are still a part of their live oeuvre, like "The Pagoda," "It Was Always My Fault," and perhaps their signature song, "The Kingdom," a near retelling of Twin Peaks' initial incident.

By no means is Coyotes a failure, songs like "The Deafening Choir," "Psalm" and "Film Put In Backwards" alone elevate it to above average status, but the strides witnessed on the ensuing Triangle EP are indeed impressive. The title track leads off the record with a menacing shuffle that descends into a feedback wash, it's lyrics drawing from Akira. "How You Speak," one of Seick's earlier Coyotes compositions, gets a proper studio treatment and is ripe with his favorite themes and subjects.
The record's true gem though is the relatively new "Footsteps," which closes it out. Arguably the finest song the group has produced to date, it is anthemic in the best sense of the word. Somewhat channeling the spirit of the Brian Eno-produced U2 records of the 1980s, "Footsteps" presents soaring vocals that build over the song's five minute run time behind a simultaneously dense and vastly open musical backdrop. Like the best anthems, "Footsteps" feels positively rejuvenating at it's conclusion, yet it retains a characteristic Coyotes layer of mystique. And that is in regards to what the song is actually about, as this writer has no clue.

Perhaps Patrick Seick's implication was correct, and the Coyotes still have no idea what they want to sound like. Their adventurousness and chameleon attributes are part of their charm, as with this band you never truly know what you're going to get on a given evening or a given record. What is guaranteed at minimum is terrific song craft, passionate and competent delivery from it's creators, and an outlaw's refusal to be pigeonholed.

Portishead - "Third"

Portishead put out their first record in 1994. It was called Dummy. It sold a ton of copies, won the Mercury Prize and spawned a hit single called "Sour Times." It's also won the unofficial title of being the official "mood music" for members of Generation X. And although I'm not of that generation, I do remember hearing "Sour Times" on the radio when I was 9, and not giving it too much thought at the time. 10 years later I was of college age and met a handful of peers of the opposite sex who obviously were paying attention and taking careful notes on the mating habits of Gen-Xers. The extensive, groundbreaking research these ladies presented shifted biases, and suddenly Portishead was personally vital. I did a bit of research on my own and discovered that Portishead released a 2nd eponymous album in 1997, and a live album the following year, which are also quite good.

Then Adrian Utley, Geoff Barrow and Beth Gibbons were gone. Vanished without a trace. Here's what happened in the UK following their disappearance: Pulp, Blur and Oasis' popularity faded out as had that of the grunge stars in their native land; the UK music press got really excited about some new distinctively American bands called The Strokes and The White Stripes, both of which then really took off in America, making it drastically uncool for the UK press to like them any more. Then a bunch of hoopla was made by some white British dude trying his hand at rapping, some dope-fiend that worshiped at the altar of Joe Strummer, and a bunch of dickholes calling themselves The Arctic Monkeys. Coldplay sold a gazillion records, Radiohead remained important and The Stone Roses did not reunite, but apparently My Bloody Valentine did (and although tickets have long since been sold out to their reunion shows, I'll still only believe it when they actually take the stage). And as quietly as they'd left, the band that almost no one was clamoring for to reunite (like they do for The Stone Roses and My Bloody Valentine), Portishead, announced that they were playing their first shows together in 10 years and releasing a new album.

This brings us to Third, a record that retains some of Portishead's watermarks (programmed drums, Gibbon's vocals, a relatively mellow pace and air), but is as much of a debut record as one can imagine for a group that played such a key role alongside Massive Attack and Tricky in the genesis in one of the 90s most exciting subgenres, trip-hop. Here's "Sour Times":



And now here's BBC impresario Jools Holland excitedly welcoming the band back to perform their newest single "Machine Gun."



Wowzers. "Sour Times" and Dummy make you want to roll around with a naked partner on a feather bed with silky sheets and big pillows. By and large, Third, and "Machine Gun" especially, is music made to be listened to while bashing your head and torso into padded wall while draped in a straightjacket. It is intensely difficult, unsettling music, and lacks a significant portion of the sex appeal that in part made Dummy such a success. But guess what? Third is a brilliant record and could possibly be the best thing this band's ever released, but I don't quite know if I'm ready to subject myself to the cries of heresy in suggesting that this relative outlier in Portishead's musical cannon is better than their great bread and butter. I will concede that it's currently my 2nd favorite record that's come out in 2008 thus far, and could possibly take the number 1 spot in time (especially considering how Mark Kozelek's work tends to blend into one another, while Third sticks out like a sore thumb not just within the context of the artists' other releases, but music in general).

A lot of folks have suggested that Third is a strongly psychedelic record, but I don't hear this at all. While there's plenty to be scared of in the great psychedelic works of 13th Floor Elevators, Barrett-era Pink Floyd, Spacemen 3 and My Bloody Valentine, all of those groups' landmark records share a couple key elements that Third is entirely devoid of: the celebratory nature that accompanies the electric guitar any time it's played, and a certain rich, organic quality to the entire sound of their masterworks. Third is a mechanistic, cold, minimalist, almost industrial album that if it's psychedelic at all can only be described as the worst kind of trip possible, or the most oppressive of comedowns.

But good god does Third do this mechanistic, cold, minimal sound to a T. The closest stylistic cousin I can think of to this album is Joy Division's Closer, a record that shares Thirds' minimalist sonic touchstones of jarring keyboard stabs and ritualistic drum patterns. But more than anything, these are albums that are so dark they sound like they were conceived in catacombs by folks so alienated that they'd long forgotten what hope looked or sounded like. Closer proved to be Joy Division's swan song, let's hope that if Third does happen to be the last thing we hear from Portishead (apparently they're not currently planning on touring behind this record in the US), it's only the last thing we hear from them until 2018.

Sun Kil Moon - "April"

Listen to the first 4 tracks from April here

The joy of musical surprise is rather unbeatable. Discovering a great new band is a terrific, if not a somewhat pedestrian experience for the 3 folks that actually care to read this laugh of a blog and self-identify as music dorks. Same thing goes for rediscovering work of an artist you already love but haven't listened to in decades. But a sensation that's altogether rare is when an artist you've nearly forgotten about and whose upcoming release you were only marginally excited about initially manages to blow you away and makes you wonder why you ever doubted them in the first place. It is within in this context that I present to you April by Sun Kil Moon, otherwise known as the best record 2008's heard thus far.

Evaluating just why I wasn't initially that excited for April has been an exercise in coming to understand just how unfortunately subject I am to the endless amounts of hype and fabricated excitement that guide so much of today's music coverage. Band leader Mark Kozelek isn't exactly a prolific musical chameleon genius like Deerhunter's Bradford Cox, a complete character and a great source for about 1000 music stories. In contrast, Kozelek puts out records at a relaxed pace and hasn't largely departed from his signature aural approach for the last 20 years, taking into account his work fronting the great Red House Painters throughout the 1990s. He tours sporadically and even holds a mixed live reputation, and in general is just a soft spoken, low key individual. These factors make it easy to take an artist like Kozelek for granted. In a stroke of perceptive genius, Sun Kil Moon took their name from a bantamweight Korean boxing champion, highlighting their ability to take a beating, but also to remain standing and occasionally triumphant. They are a band that generate work that is well received, but remain such a constant enigma that their vitality becomes easy to forget. April is the kind of record that will, and has, seen great reviews (a "Universal Acclaim" heading at Metacritic and "Best New Music" warranting from Pitchfork) but will be on few, if any, year end Top 10 lists.

Obviously, this is a very simplistic explanation of Kozelek as an artist and April as an album. There are differences between his newest LP and his previous work, some significant, although maybe they're only discernible to Kozelek fanboys such as myself. This is beside the point. April represents some of the best work the man has ever done in his long career and is simply 73 minutes of stunning languid melancholy. It is music for someone who finds solace in spending long periods of time gazing at the monochromatic, overcast landscapes that are so common in the backdrop of the city that Kozelek spends most of his time, San Francisco. As those scenes remain steadfast, so will Sun Kil Moon's music in its quality and vitality, long after other wave-of-the-moment acts have hit the mats.

Like cooked crack.

In honor of the day, and the accuracy of the statement, I feel there's no better way to begin this column than in the words of this man, one Jim Anchower.

Hola amigos. It's been a while since I rapped at ya.

Thanks Jim. It's good to be back.

An equation for happiness

R.E.M. + Modest Mouse + The National = easily the best package tour I've come across in ages.

here's some musical youtube stylings to get you kiddies esited!

MLK

To honor the day, here's U2's "MLK," the closing track from their 1984 masterpiece The Unforgettable Fire.
interesting trivia note: this is the song that director richard kelly initially wanted to use in the closing sequence of his film" Donnie Darko," but being that U2 are still as big today as they were in the mid-80s, their songs cost a lot of money. so instead he had to opt for some no-name guy with an acoustic guitar covering a tears for fears song.

The Top 10 Records of 2007

2007 was the best year for new music in a while. Real talk, yo.

10). Low - "Drums And Guns" (Sub Pop)
A horribly underappreciated group, Low's newest LP adds a more synthetic texture (namely via drum programming) to their signature slowcore aesthetic. The songs alternate from tales of violence and loss to those of tenderness and compassion. The harmonies are as good as ever and the group is no less haunting in 2007 as they were with their first record in 1994. If anything, they're better.

9). PJ Harvey - "White Chalk" (Island)
Another stalwart of the past 15 years, Polly Jean Harvey released the most radically different LP of her career in 2007. Entirely acoustically based, White Chalk tackles classic PJ themes through the eyes of a youthful Brothers Grimm heroine. While it's less immediate than her previous personas, repeated listening reveals that this incarnation of Polly is as compelling as the sexually frustrated early 20s feminist of Dry or the confident, sultry and mature urbanite of Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea.

8). LCD Soundsystem - "Sound Of Silver" (DFA Records)
Sound Of Silver marks the point in which James Murphy grows comfortable with the fact that his edge is gone. So to celebrate, why not create the first front to back classic album of his career? Not to diminish LCD Soundsystem's killer singles over the course of this decade, as they too are nothing less that outstanding; but the introspection, honesty and grasp of the intangible dynamics that truly make albums great renders Sound Of Silver somewhat of a surprise. Nearly 40 years old, I'd venture to bet that Murphy probably prefers a finely aged Pinot Noir over the PBR bottles that his legion of Manhattan hipster followers undoubtedly select. Like the pinot, perhaps it's now safe to assume that LCD Soundsystem will only get better with time.

7). Bright Eyes - "Cassadaga" (Saddle Creek)
Act VII, in which Conor Oberst finally lives up to the Bob Dylan comparisons that have fluttered around his head for the past ten years. When Dylan was Oberst's age, 27, just over 40 years ago, he spent the summer living with Robbie Robertson and the rest of The Hawks delving deep into the heart of American music and recording what would become The Basement Tapes. Obsert's Cassadaga frequently recalls the collaboration between Dylan and The Band in the mid 70s. The production is stronger, the arrangements beefier, and the melodies and songs are more lasting and powerful than ever before on a Bright Eyes record.

6). Radiohead - "In Rainbows" (TBD Records)
In Rainbows will ultimately be remembered for its innovative unveiling and release, and it should be. Yet, there is no denying that not only is it another quality Radiohead record, it's simply some of the finest music of the year. As carnally driven as he's sounded since "Creep," Thom Yorke's opening quip of "I don't want to be your friend, I just want to be your lover" in the excellent "House Of Cards" is just one highlight on an album full of them.

5). Black Lips - "Good Bad Not Evil" (Vice)
Because everyone needs sloppy musical inanity to dance and swill Miller High Life too. When the purveyor happens to write tunes as excellent as the congruent political indictment/kiss-off "Katrina" (can you guess what national tragedy it references?!?!?!), you know you've unearthed brilliance.

4). The White Stripes - "Icky Thump" (Warner Bros.)
The White Stripes are one of those groups everyone loves to chide for sticking to the same formula, yet approaches with extreme caution when they actually do change up their schtick, if only because their signature stuff is so good. Icky Thump is somewhat a return to form after 2005's White Chalk-esque Get Behind Me Satan in that it rocks as hard as the rest of their catalog. But also along for the ride are bagpipes, mariachi horns, nods to prog-rock and some of the weirdest guitar tones Jack White's ever conjured up. Go figure. This is some of the most fun you'll hear a band having on record in 2007.

3). Kanye West - "Graduation" (Roc-A-Fella)
With Graduation, Kanye West cements his place as the pop genius of the decade. In what is his most exquisitely crafted LP, West eschews the "I got something to prove!" attitude of The College Dropout and the larger-than-life overtures of Late Registration. Instead, he trades them in for a record with razor sharp focus, an embracing of his weaknesses and insecurities, and a taste for European dance culture. Grad school can't be too far off.

2). Spoon - "Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga" (Merge)
Britt Daniel and Jim Eno's mastery lies in that their penchant for musical simplicity and minimalism can in fact be so incredibly multifaceted, a quality that kindred pairs Jack and Meg White and Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker of Low have toyed with before, but with reduced success. Spoon have released their 3rd classic LP since 2000. They've got 4 if you change "classic" to "really solid" and include Gimme Fiction. The arrangements are still engaging and catchy and Britt's voice still sounds phenomenal. The biggest difference with Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga and their last few records is the return to the relatively direct lyrics of 2001's Girls Can Tell, resulting in their most personal record since that masterpiece.

1). The National - "Boxer" (Beggar's Banquet)
Simply put, The National's Boxer is not only the best record I heard this year, but it's also probably the best record I've heard in the last 3-4 years. As someone who considers himself a relative populist, never has the American-upper-middle-class-straight-urban-white-male experience been placed to music as moving and endearing as that of Boxer. But there must be a reason this band is called The National after all, as they've created a work that should eclipse those narrow sociological confines in its appeal.

Singer and songwriter Matt Berninger is a goddamn wunderkind. He sings in a deep baritone that recalls the sexy fatigue and weary wisdom by way of whiskey of the great Mark Sandman of Morphine. This is a man so devoid of vigor that he can't even pin a corsage to his lover's dress, despite how badly he wants to, and would rather they "stay inside 'till somebody finds us," as he sings on the stunning "Apartment Story." His lyrics are impressionistic snapshots of both the triumphs and lows of day-to-day Brooklyn life of said demographic, stitched together in a compelling and gorgeous patchwork.

Berninger may be the face of the group, but no less important are the pairs of the Dessner and Devendorf brothers. The Dessners contribute the album's fine guitar work that runs the gamut from the lilting grace of "Racing Like A Pro" to the plodding brutality of "Mistaken For Strangers," while the Devendorfs hold down one of the tightest rhythm sections I've heard in recent years. Many have been quick to christen Boxer as a drummer's record, and while it is so much more than that, there's no denying that the patterns on a song like "Brainy" are nothing short of transcendent. They're courtesy of Bryan, for those keeping score ;).

The National have created a record which flawlessly conveys the darker side of the classic American indie rock dream, to move to NYC and make a livelihood through music alone. They battle perils like the loss of a consistent income, the strain band life puts on a relationship, and perceived isolation amongst a field of competitors. As mundane as these setbacks may seem, it is because of the band's conviction, delivery, and subtlety that makes Boxer such an endlessly rewarding listen.