decksanddrumsandrockandroll

we live on a mountain

2010-06-27T20:35:00.000-07:00

this blog has been inactive for far too long, and although the chances of that fact being altered are slim as far as the long term goes, i can remain silent about dirty projectors no longer. in many ways inspiration has struck because, in my eyes at least, an incredibly fruitful, creative and successful two years have come full circle for this band. not only am i convinced that they are probably the best young band playing music today (and a group with few peers in general, regardless of the members' age), but they are possibly the most ecologically progressive band that i am aware of. as environmental health is an issue i'm perhaps more passionate about than music, it is this latter issue i wish to especially touch on, but really their entire story is just too good to not go into detail about.

2008 saw the band winding down from a substantial profile-raising release, rise above. lead projector dave longstreth had already released a number of idiosyncratic and staunchly avant-garde recordings as dirty projectors, most to little fanfare outside the nyc and portland, or underground scenes. as remarkable of a record as rise above was at the time (and still is), it was perhaps a little bit puzzling that a composer as unique as longstreth chose to make his then most eagerly anticipated recording consist of nothing but reimagined versions of tunes from black flag's hardcore classic, damaged. longstreth spent the subsequent time doing nothing to quell the notion that his true calling may have been as a unique interpreter; 2008 saw the band doing no more than touring the material from rise above ad naseum, writing new songs in private, and producing a sole studio recording. the website stereogum was in the midst of curating their third track-by-track tribute to a 90s gem, and the projectors' contributed track 2 to enjoyed: a tribute to bjork's post, "hyperballad." little did they or any of their fans know how that single recording would come to shape the trajectory the group has taken to present day.

the first half of 2009 saw dirty projectors profile increase even more. they performed a number of high profile gigs showcasing new material (SXSW, minneapolis' walker art center) and contributed a standout collaboration with david byrne to the most recent red hot benefit compilation. that april saw the announcement of bitte orca, longstreth and co.'s highly anticipated eighth studio release, and the group's debut for indie heavyhitter domino records. however, under the radar of all that profile-raising, stereogum staff curated a benefit for Housing Works, a nyc based non-profit that works on aids and homelessness issues, and whom else signed on to play the benefit but dirty projectors AND the author of "hyperballad" herself, iceland's own bjork. what's more is that the artists chose instead to perform entirely new material written by longstreth for both artists only a matter of weeks before the may 8th performance, instead of their own separate "greatest hits" sets. it is this suite of songs that constitutes the band's newest release (with bjork), mount wittenberg orca (cover pictured above).

clearly, ambition was not to be taken lightly at this modest little charity gig. it sold out, nyc's musical elite packed the house, the new york times wrote about it, but remarkably the magic of this performance was quickly forgotten, as bitte orca was soon released and became one of the most talked about records of the year by a band without an iteration of assorted mammalian or avian life in their name (animal, grizzly, phoenix). they also went on tour nonstop through the present and won over even more fans thataway. they were probably the best live band of 2009 and also put out the best record of 2009 (seriously, if you haven't heard it, remedy that quickly). the only hint that faithful fans ever got re: wittenberg having some eternity were sporadic performances of the song "when the world comes to an end" at shows, and as below on late night with jimmy fallon (all sans bjork).

with bitte orca having been available for digestion for over a year, and with the group on tour for much of that time, the prospect of new music from longstreth anytime soon seemed unlikely. and then, taking a page from bjork buddies radiohead, the two artists announced that mount wittenberg orca would be officially released within one week of announcement. the release was to be exclusively digital and all proceeds would go to assorted NGOs working to create marine protected areas, or MPAs. (the song cycle of mount wittenberg orca is entirely about a connection lead projectress amber coffman felt with a playful orca while watching it frolic from the ridgeline of the titular mountain in northern california. more info about MWO's inspiration and genesis here, it's another saga in and of itself).

in the age of catastrophic petroleum hemorrhaging, "carbon-neutral" destination music festivals, and a tanking recording industry governed by multi-billion dollar companies, this is a remarkably brave and innovative move from an equally remarkable and innovative artist.
every step this band has taken in the past twenty-four months reeks of the utmost integrity. their maxim is multifaceted: make your living tirelessly on the road instead of via record sales (but still make outstanding records), give back creatively and financially, and prosper inextravagently. the fact that this release is digitally exclusive is just but one example of how this band really gets the intricacies what it means to be "green" or "experimental." say what you will audiophiles, but that vinyl LP you so hypothetically covet is made from the same shit that's incessantly vomiting in the depths of the gulf, and that CD you would have bought ten years ago would make great fodder for this behemoth, both of which, mind you, aren't so great for the friendly orcas ms. coffman, ms. guðmundsdóttir, and mr. longstreth are so fond of.

for these reasons and more, bjork and especially dirty projectors should be applauded. as far as the music world is concerned, longstreth & co. truly have arrived where they first intoned they were through bjork's words over two years ago, "on a mountain, right at the top." mount wittenberg orca comes out june 30th. buy it here. seriously, stealing this record would be about the lamest thing you could do. it's only $7. in fact, the only gripe i can muster about this record is that as far as i can tell there's not a way to donate MORE than $7 for the music, as i believe it fully warrants it (why does it seem that no matter what, there is always more to learn from radiohead?).

astute readers will note that my actually having heard the record at the time of this writing would be an impossibility. perhaps i'll get around to reviewing the music one day, but the prospect of being critical about this project, and in effect this band's two year artistic journey, is so offputting that i look forward to simply enjoying it for what it is. witte orca, orca witte.

A Coyote's Kingdom

2009-02-23T17:59:00.000-08:00

"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"

2008-05-03T15:22:00.000-07:00

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"

2008-04-20T21:23:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-04-20T21:18:00.000-07:00

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

2008-01-28T14:43:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-21T10:41:00.000-08:00

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

2007-12-31T13:12:00.001-08:00

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 Williamsburg 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.

Stank Of The Union

2007-12-13T22:13:00.001-08:00

Second only to De La Soul, Atlanta's OutKast is the most consistently creative and exciting hip hop GROUP of all time. Their legacy is nothing short of remarkable, and their LPs are essential listenings and purchases for anyone claiming themselves as a head. Beginning in hip hop's second golden age, 1994, OutKast essentially put southern hip hop on the map with Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik. Yeah, the Geto Boys and UGK came first, but they didn't quite find the commercial success that 'Kast so effortlessly stumbled upon with their first single “Players Ball.” Suddenly, Atlanta became a legitimate nucleus for hip hop creativity, a trend that has yet to let up.

Barely into their early 20s, Big Boi and Dre released a trio of albums that, at this point, undoubtedly stands as the pinnacle of their career. 1996's ATLiens debuted at #2 on the Billboard charts and sold twice as well as Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik (2x Platinum). It sported a comparatively similar aesthetic to their previous LP, notably differing in the group's willingness to play with their flows and add a few new layers to their already excellent production, namely via spacey synth lines. 1998's Aquemini fully took the vision that had begun on ATLiens to outer space. A deeply personal and exploratory album, it is nothing short of perfect and is this writer's favorite hip hop album of all time. At the height of Bad Boy and shiny suit mania, Aquemini still managed considerable commercial success, selling as well as ATLiens. However, Aquemini received almost unprecedented acclaim for a hip hop album from the critical community. Goodbye A Tribe Called Quest; the predominantly white, bearded and bespectacled music writers of the world had a new favorite hip hop group.

2000's Stankonia was yet another success of even greater portions. It reached even farther into the experimental realm than Aquemini (“Snappin' & Trappin” almost sounds like a precursor to glitch-hop) AND maintained a decidedly more thugged-out vibe than their last record, perhaps in direct confrontation to their newfound status as critic's darlings. Stankonia was a bona fide hit. It sold 4 million copies, a yielded a #1 single (“Ms. Jackson”), and topped the Pazz and Jop poll for albums and singles (and good god was 2000 a great year for music...)

The three years between Stankonia and Speakerboxxx/The Love Below represent the time in which Andre 3000 (no longer content to be held to the simple confines of his original moniker) and Big Boi transitioned from OutKast: The Yardbirds, profoundly influential traditionalists that increasingly transitioned towards stylistic experimentation, to OutKast: The Beatles, a massive pop sensation that could do whatever the fuck they wanted artistically, with a public that would still eat it up no matter what. Breakup rumors had long circulated this group, and still do. The group first addressed the issue in song on Aquemini's opening track, 5 years before they released the most complexing album of their career.

Speakerboxxx/The Love Below is not only OutKast's most successful album on a commercial level, it is one of the best-selling albums of the decade, and one of the best selling hip hop albums of all time. Again, 'Kast topped Pazz and Jop in both the albums and singles departments, and won the Grammy for Album of the Year in February 2004. The project's ambition was endlessly lauded, and truth be told, there are few albums that cover as much diverse musical ground as Speakerboxxx/The Love Below. However, there were a handful of detractors, some perhaps still stuck in the dark ages, fixed to album-era tenants like cohesion. Most just wondered, WHERE THE HELL IS THE HIP HOP?

To be fair, it was there. ~50 minutes worth. It was called Speakerboxxx. And even a handful of tracks on The Love Below also fit that mold. As much as I enjoy both Big Boi and Andre 3000's disks, there is no denying that it's not quite the same when they are not on the same track together. Their chemistry is undeniable, making The Beatles metaphor even more apt. Can you imagine the White Album being split up into I Need A Fix 'Cause I'm Going Down/Back To The Top Of The Slide? Sonic exploration is all fine and good, but not when it compromises songcraft. Luckily OutKast get away with it most of the time on Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, cause by and large the songs are really good. That said, it's still a complete chore to get all the way through the record (individually or collectively), and in all honesty, it is probably the OutKast album I listen to least.

Interestingly enough, their follow-up effectively killed the John / Paul parallel. Idlewild was the group's worst selling album since their debut, yielded no significant hits, had a mixed (at best) critical reaction, was paired with a flop of a film, and in general was met to little fanfare. Mere weeks after the release of both projects I incorrectly predicted that we'd see an official end to the OutKast franchise within one year. Luckily that's not been the case, because while the general public has slept on the group comparatively over the last twelve months, Big Boi and Dre have quietly released a cache of interesting work.

First and foremost, Idlewild (the record, the film is in fact garbage, but so was Magical Mystery Tour). It baffles me that Speakerboxxx/The Love Below was as successful as it was and that Idlewild was such a flop, because it's essentially the exact same album with about half as many tracks, a good thing in this writer's eyes. Yes, maybe the "non-hip hop" is a bit more focused on American traditional musics than it was on their double-disk smash, but people liked that O Brother, Where Art Thou soundtrack, right? Furthermore, the disk actually features some GREAT singles, in particular “Morris Brown,” (which serves as somewhat of a hybrid between the smooth hooks of “The Way You Move” and the kinetic insanity of “B.O.B.”), and especially “The Mighty O.” The later track features all of the above: an absolute avant-banger of a track courtesy of Organized Noize (check), a hook that wouldn't sound out of place on their debut (think “Hootie-Hoo”), and most importantly, it exhibits BOTH MCs spitting excellent, hungry, 1:00+ verses. ON THE SAME TRACK!!!! Check. This song should have been the biggest hit of 2006, but instead it peaked at #77 on the Billboard charts.

At this point it has to be stated that Andre 3000 is the real question mark of this group. He has about 1000 other artistic interests, namely movies and children's cartoons, but while Big Boi has generally stuck to the blueprints the group laid out in 1994, Andre is the one releasing tunes like “Chronometrophobia” (easily the worst song the OutKast brand has ever been attached to) and “Take Off Your Cool” (maybe the 2^nd worst). However, he's also one of my 5 favorite MCs of all time. Big Boi is also a brilliant MC, but in a distinctly Paul McCartney way, and that may even be giving him too much credit. He keeps things comfortable and is remarkably consistent while Andre is the Lennon, the impatient genius who claims both the highest highs and the lowest lows. Big Boi is always an asset to any track he's on, and he frequently takes the role of the star, but Andre has some verses from ATLiens->Stankonia that are just transcendent (see “Da Art Of Storytellin' (Part I)” from Aquemini for just one example).

'Kast dorks have been tantalized with news of 10 The Hard Way since before Idlewild was even in our vernacular. Supposedly, Big Boi and Dre have had a 10 track, straight-up hip hop record, entirely produced by Organized Noize in the works. Needless to say, this is about as exciting as news gets in hip hop, but if there's another thing 'Kast dorks also know, it's that reliability ain't their strong suit. Delayed released dates, promised tours and the like have plagued this group before, and their lack of reliability has only become more of an issue in recent years, making the hypothesis that OutKast is nearing an end seem all the more probable.

However, between “The Mighty O,” their collective appearance on the “Walk It Out” remix, the fourth part of “Da Art Of Storytellin'” finally seeing the light of day via DJ Drama's Gangsta Grillz: The Album, and especially their collaboration with UGK on what may be the finest single of the year, “International Player's Anthem (I Choose You),” perhaps the hip hop wet dream that is another OutKast album isn't so unlikely.

That last song in particular is brilliant on a number of levels (stellar verses from Pimp C and Bun B, a masterful beat hat changes drum patterns and counts with each new MC, courtesy of Three-6 Mafia, and a benign but flawlessly executed concept), but it really shines because Andre is god-damn stunning. In true elder-statesman fashion, he sets the scene for the story, but doesn't steal the show. Plus he delivers some of the wittiest and dirtiest innuendo I've ever heard (I hate to see y'all frown but I'd rather see her smiling / Wetness all around me, true, but I'm no island / A peninsula maybe, makes no sense, I know, crazy / Give up all this pussy cat thats in my lap, no lookin' back). As usual, Big Boi's no slouch either, (Eni mini decisions with precision I pick / Or make my selection on who I choose to be with).

Watch "International Player's Anthem (I Choose You)" Video Here

As much as I want to see this project come to fruition, I'm taking a decidedly “I'll believe it when I see it” attitude. Apparently first up are solo records from both artists, not to mention continued work in acting, and running a record label, dog kennel, and children's cartoon.

It is time I come to terms with the fact that the OutKast I most desperately want is pretty different from the OutKast I'm gonna get. Furthermore, I should be grateful for whatever OutKast I do get and appreciate it for what it is. Yet immaturely, I can only foresee sustained longing for what might have been, 10 The Hard Way and beyond, if my primary fix for these two artists actually appearing on a song together only comes through through guest spots. Until then, I can probably get a few more years of spinning Aquemini and Stankonia before I need to replace my copies.

And maybe I'll even try to listen to the last two records with an equal enthusiasm.

Just my luck, or, bored and old.

2007-11-18T19:57:00.000-08:00

So today the house in which Kurt Cobain played “Automatic For The People,” quoted Neil Young and took his life some thirteen years ago was pointed out to me.

I've passed by this house at least weekly for the past month not knowing it's morbidly iconic status. It is one of the prettiest houses on Lake Washington Boulevard, with a stunning, weathered, and possibly reclaimed wooden gate in the middle of the driveway. And although the woodwork is a fitting relic to his hometown of Aberdeen, the house is about as un-punk as you can get, which I guess is a suitable example of one of the central points of confusion in the singer's life which lead to his untimely death. However I'm in no way interested in attempting to answer why Kurt killed himself. Instead I'm more interested in and terrified by the ever so slight possibilities that within five years I may have that much money as to afford a house on Lake Washington, a wife and child, and a nasty drug addiction.

Kurt was 22, exactly my age, when his first record came out on Sub-Pop. Although in my opinion the band wouldn't do their best work for another four years, this is absolutely shocking to me for a number of reasons. If nothing else, for the past four years, my life has closely paralleled his on the geographic level. I am hardly the second person to move from Olympia to Seattle, but I like to believe that Kurt and I shared similar motives in our respective relocations, not that they're even that original or unique. And, perhaps more obviously and importantly so, it still shocks the shit out of me that people as young as myself are capable of making such great art.

Our backgrounds aren't exactly linear either. We both loved the Beatles and watched our folks divorce in our first decades, but the similarities pretty much stop there. Kurt faced heavy drug use at a young age, in addition to ADD and problems with the law at an even younger age. I was a upper-middle class suburban kid with relative stability that happened to go to college in the city that Kurt moved to in order to immerse himself in the local music scene. I certainly appreciated the arts of Olympia at the time, but I was never invested in the culture the way Kurt was, just as school was never on his agenda.

If anything, Nirvana's legacy and importance to me has grown in the years since his death. I was 9 years old when he died, and probably started listening to alternative rock as defined per the explosion of Nirvana in 1992 just a month or two after his death. At the young age of nine I knew that his death was relatively major, and I wanted to know why. Soon afterwards, “Nevermind” became something of a right of passage for me, and I worshiped at the altar of it's mega-singles (and to an equal extent, “Heart Shaped Box,” but that one always struck me as a little weirder than “In Bloom”...little did I know that it was about Courtney Love's vagina, and now it makes perfect sense that it my 10 year old ears were a little turned off to it.) Who am I kidding, it's equally off-putting at 22.

Strangely enough, I have no idea if middle school aged kids today love Nirvana as I did. It's especially surprising to me considering that I've spent a lot of time working with kids around that age. Classic rock revivalism at that age is as alive as it was nearly 10 years ago when it consumed me, but Nirvana's work has aged enough that they can now be viewed as a group from another generation. I wonder what my own kids will think of Nirvana. Will it translate for 12 year old males as well as Jimi Hendrix has for the past 40 years? I like to think so, but I honestly have no anecdotal evidence to back this up.

I think of handing my own children Nirvana records. In the years since I've heard “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” I still recognize it's importance or whatever, but I pretty much can't stand to listen to it. The huge difference between Kurt Cobain and someone like Hendrix is I don't really consider Cobain's “landmark” songs to be his best work, while I feel you'll have a hard time of convincing anyone that Hendrix ever did better work than “Purple Haze” or “Voodoo Chile (Slight Return).” Obviously, there are countless gems in the Hendrix catalog that didn't achieve radio or chart success, but “Come As You Are” kinda makes me cringe in a way that the Hendrix hits don't. Maybe it's because I'm more of a product of Conbain's generation than I was Hendrix's, and thus I “get it” a little better and it's more personal to me, but I'd much rather hear the dufus anthem “School” or the bitter sarcasm of “Serve The Servants” than Kurt's 1992 hits.

The question of being of Cobain's generation is still troublesome to me, as I really wasn't. What's even more troubling is that I have a hard time of thinking of any transcendently enigmatic musical figure that is +/- my age in modern times. Jack White and Isaac Brock are as close as I can come, but they're both ~10 years older than me. Conner Oberst, whom the New York Times seems all to eager to hand the dubious title to? A talented dude, but he ain't it either. The guys from Black Lips are my favorite artists that are about my age, but they're pretty strictly stuck in nostalgia. Are 22 year olds simply uninspiring by modern design? Perhaps. It'd be rad to have a unifying musical presence that simply screamed “my generation,” but I guess I'm still waiting.

I am pretty firmly convinced that Nirvana wouldn't have made it past 1996, if that far, should Kurt have not killed himself. As much as he spoke of enjoying a more equally weighted songwriting process that was unique to some In Utero tunes, I do believe the countless other negative aspects of “band life” such as touring, cover shoots and the like were disgusting to him, and he would have had no problem leaving it all behind. I like to believe he may have released a solo record or two (god those would have been sweet), and then maybe settled into the comfortable position of a producer or engineer or something (which he also would have been outstanding at). But who the hell knows. Better to speculate on the “what if” then “why” in my opinion. Or at least it's the path of less resistance.

The effect of locale in regards to Kurt's influence can not be understated either. In polling a few of my high school friends, everyone admits to liking Nirvana, finding Cobain a talented artist and recognizing their importance, but he's not held at quite the genius level that he is by my peers in the Pacific Northwest, where Kurt is still god. Granted, like myself, my high school friends were not of the Cobain generation either, but neither was most of my Seattle brethren.

Do yourself a favor this season and pick up newly released DVD of the band's MTV Unplugged performace and sit back and watch it while nursing a bottle of red wine (or pennyroyal tea). There is little one could say to convince me that it is anything other than the man at his absolute best. Drink to the notion that we will someday see a young person do so much musically.

Reflections on Radiohead and "OK Computer," which is 10 years old this week.

2007-06-11T12:24:00.000-07:00

So on 6/16/97, Radiohead's seminal 3^rd LP OK Computer was released in the United Kingdom. Two weeks later on 7/1/97 it was released in the US. Apparently it effectively killed Britpop, rekindled interest in Pink Floyd and Miles Davis amongst Generation X, and was nominated for a few Grammy Awards. Who knew?

I was 12 years old. I brought The Prodigy's The Fat Of The Land on the day it came out (also 7/1), as I was a pretty avid listener of alt-rock radio at the time, and "Firestarter" was ubiquitous. Later that day I saw the video for "Paranoid Android" on MTV and thought it was the coolest thing ever. My previous exposure to Radiohead was mixed. Even as a Q101 devotee (Chicago's prominent alternative station), I thought "Creep" was a terrible song, but I loved the singles from The Bends, in particular "Fake Plastic Trees," despite not actually owning the album.

Anyhow, my fondness for The Bends singles, the "Paranoid Android" video (and the song too for that matter), and some good press for the album was enough to make me go back to the record store the next day and buy OK Computer, probably via an advance on my allowance. It was the first Radiohead record I ever owned.

Perhaps predictably, I didn't love it at first (what sane 12 year old would?) Honestly I think I only listened to "Paranoid Android," "Let Down," "Karma Police" and "Lucky" for the first 4-5 months I owned OKC, and that was only because they were the songs listed on the "featuring" sticker tacked to the outside of the packaging. I vaguely remember giving the first half of the record a spin one time in those first 5 months and being very put off by "Subterranean Homesick Alien" and "Exit Music," as they were too soft and not edgy/angry enough for my 12 year old ears, but I could just be pulling that scenario out of my ass.

Eventually the '97 end-of-the-year lists come out and in virtually every major publication OK Computer places in the top 3. My friends and I start to give it another listen. We fall in love. I even got to a point where "Exit Music," once the album's nadir, stood as my absolute favorite song on the record (which still could be true today, although I could make a case for almost any song on that album). 4 months after that we see Radiohead at the Rosemont Theater in Rosemont, IL. And who opens for them but Spiritualized, who also released a landmark album on 7/1/97. Having heard that they were a cool band by some of our cool older relatives we got there early and watched their set, but were only slightly enthralled. I didn't get into Ladies And Gentlemen... until college, and I think I actually prefer it to OKC these days, but that's another story...

In short, it was an amazing show. It was the first concert any of us had seen independently. We'd all been to shows before, but always with a parent or older sibling/relative in tow. Although it was awesome to be free of guardians at the time, I now wish my father had been there with us. He doesn't particularly enjoy Radiohead, but as a music fan he deserved the right to see rock music circa-1998 at its finest as much as we did.

They played everything off OK Computer (except "Fitter, Happier"), the vast majority of The Bends, and much to my delight, no "Creep." I don't claim to have much music cred at all, but seeing Radiohead and Spiritualized on my own when I was twelve is kinda up there with seeing The Ramones or someone analogous for the first time as a teenager in the late 70s.

Time passed and my interest in Radiohead and alt-rock in general began to wane towards the end of 1998. I started listening to the big 70s rock groups (Zeppelin, Floyd and the like), hip hop, and some jazz, and by the end of the year Q101 was pretty much entirely removed from my palate. Nevertheless my respect for Radiohead sustained even though I hardly listened to OK Computer or The Bends in 1999 and 2000. When I heard that Kid A was on the horizon I was one of few of my peers to get really excited, as they'd all entirely distanced themselves from alt-rock by that point. Nevertheless, I still bought the album on the day it came out (10/3/00...I wasn't quite computer savvy enough to download the leak from Napster yet) and had a pretty similar experience with that album as I did with OKC nearly 3 years earlier. But that's also another story...

It's kinda hard to believe OK Computer is 10 years old, but for me personally it's even harder to believe that Kid A and Amnesiac are 7 years old, mainly in that nowadays I really don't see OKC as that innovative or envelope-pushing of an album (which is something I definitely do feel about Kid A). I think OK Computer is a brilliant album, flawlessly executed, a masterpiece even, but I've never thought of it as "the" flagship album of the 1990s or whatever. It's in the top 10 or 20 for sure, but I don't hold it at quite the relative levels of brilliance that the rest of the critical community apparently does. But I wouldn't tell them they're wrong either :).

But was Radiohead “the” flagship rock band from 1995-2002? You bet your shit fucking ass they were. If anything, the release of OK Computer and the subsequent tour marked the exact midpoint of their 8 straight years of untouchability.

As for The Prodigy's The Fat Of The Land? I think I stopped spinning that one around November of 1997.

MONKEYS HATE YOU!!!!!

2007-05-27T20:40:00.000-07:00

So for the past few months this comic strip Monkeys Hate You has appeared in The Stranger which is Seattle's best weekly alternative newspaper. It's basically just a series of between 4-6 very disgruntled-looking monkeys sitting in a line, each with a beer can next to them and a dialog bubble featuring sloppy hand-written, hysterically funny, and overly critical cynicism/sarcasm about popular culture. It was predominantly music-oriented but has gone on to deride TV, movies, novels and the like. It's done by Jim Behrle and it's fucking brilliant. I've spoken to Jim and the strip isn't featured online anywhere, as I've been dying to share it with non-Seattleites for months. So, thanks to the power of Google Image Search, I'm gonna start posting my own rendition of a highlight or two from the strip each week. I'll try to keep it music exclusive. Anyhow, without further ado...

I had a dream me + PJ Harvey were finalists in a belching contest. We tied.

*Disclaimer: This week's selection is not entirely representative of the best insight that Monkeys Hate You usually has on display, but it's still dece.*

Check back each week folks!

your time will come, monkey.

Wilco - Sky Blue Sky

2007-05-21T22:11:00.000-07:00

(cop that shit)

(^click on this before reading...)

The notion of a "group" churning out recording after recording under the same name, albeit with the lineup continually in flux, is nothing new. In fact it's a staple feature of many groups I love. However, it's an interesting challenge to the romantic notion of "the band," which has equally inundated the collective consciousness of musicdorkdom. Despite numerous rumors and reasonably talented individuals who undoubtedly rose to the occasion following John Bonham's death, Robert, Jimmy, and JP thought it best that Zeppelin cease to exist following that accident. Joy Division radically changes their sound and becomes New Order in the face of tragedy, et cetera, et cetera.

While the Wilco cast has yet to face anything quite as traumatic as death, at three years, one live record and finally a single studio album young, the current incarnation of Wilco is the closest thing to a "band" that's ever existed within the boundaries of its name. And lovely charts aside, Jeff Tweedy and Co. have been more than vocal about this fact in recent interviews. If nothing else, Sky Blue Sky, Wilco's first (or sixth, eighth or ninth, depending on who you ask), studio record is noteworthy for that alone.

Make no mistake that I am fascinated by Jeff Tweedy. For my money he is easily in the uppermost echelon of distinctively innovative and inspiring American songwriters of the past 10 years (in Wilco that is...his work in Uncle Tupelo is also fan-fuckin-tastic, but that's another story...). Since Summerteeth to be approximate, much attention has been directed towards his words, where he nailed the gorgeous surrealism of '65-66 Dylan to a tee. One of the things that most fascinates me about Tweedy (and frequently serves as a means of frustration) is the nonchalance with which he insists that his work and aesthetic has never changed. I understand how the artist's perspective is wildly different from that of damn near everybody else, but to this fan, Sky Blue Sky is of a different ilk than the last three LPs.

The term "organic" has been thrown around a lot in regards to this record, and it's one I'll promptly reject as the previous LP, A Ghost Is Born, was largely devoid of the processed noise and discordance that made Yankee Hotel Foxtrot such an engaging listen. Perhaps its a reflection of the state of affairs between bandmates or within the singer himself, but the term I continually use to describe Sky Blue Sky is that it's pretty. Sunny, even. Not unlike it's title. The greatest strength of a record like Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is that underneath the sheet of Jim O'Rourke production tactics were really beautiful songs. Despite what Tweedy says (more or less that O'Rourke was pretty much as big a part of Sky Blue Sky as he was with the last two), he did not receive a producer credit, and thus the hooks and melodies are a lot easier to pull out this time through. The band's arrangements are warm and inviting, but also rich and subtle. "Side With The Seeds" starts off as lovely of a wannabe-Motown, blue-eyed soul arrangement and melody as Wilco can pull off (I can't shake the mental image of people entering a white wooden church in the pastoral American South for those first few minutes) before descending into dueling electric guitar parts where Nels Cline finally emerges victorious. And the "guitar that sounds like a pedal steel, except its not" lines on "Leave Me Like You Found Me"? Sublime.

Even the lyrics are more straight forward. Not to say that Wilco never had tangible lyrics before (see "The Late Greats" from the last record for just one example), but Sky Blue Sky takes a noticeably different route in addressing classic Tweedy themes like domestic life and finding a source of inspiration or purpose against all odds, which "Hate It Here" and "What Light" both explicitly address. The record is not without surrealist Tweedy either, album highlight "You Are My Face" being the best example, but the two previous tunes come off almost as sing-alongs best suited for a campfire when compared to "She's A Jar" or "Handshake Drugs."

Unsurprisingly, the sizable contingent of the band's fanbase that Yankee Hotel Foxtrot served as a means of introduction will see this record as a regression. I've listened to this record probably 20 times now and I honestly don't see myself discovering something new and revelatory about these songs anytime in the near or distant future. But on this sunny, 60 degree day in Olympia, WA; it sounds excellent, and as long as that feeling lasts throughout the summer, I can't ask much more of Wilco than that. Listen to this record once on a beautiful day while watching the sun go down. Then revisit it in the December grey. And don't let anyone say it's wrong.

Video: Wilco - "What Light" (from Shake It Off DVD)
(Credit Figure 1 to Wikipedia, which is pretty much the greatest website in the entire universe.)

Welcome kiddos!

2007-05-21T00:39:00.000-07:00

I've never really read a blog before, nor do I personally know anyone who keeps a regular blog. But it is what all the cool kids are doing these days, right? If anything, this blog will probably reveal my severe lacking in cool, but I miss writing about music.

I used to write for this website Static Multimedia. They would send me free disks to review and would generally let me write on other albums they didn't send me that I felt needed to be covered. I volunteered to stop doing that cause I got too busy with other avenues in my life, plus the work was intermittent which bugged me. Here's something I wrote about "The Runner's Four" by Deerhoof (acquired by searching my name on their site, apparently none of my other 20+ reviews are hosted there anymore). Now I done graduated college and I got free time and have only expanded my musical palate, so I thought it was time to start doin' it again. That's my shit ass background.

On what will eventually appear in this electronic archive of my thoughts that no one in their right mind should give more than two shits about: mainly reviews of new albums and singles, general thoughts on tertiary-source music news, random thoughts on music of old, perhaps a reappearing, themed column of sorts, mp3s of the hottest tracks on these here streets, etc.

The blog gets its name from the The Propellerheads' 1998 LP. It's a pretty good record, I can't say I'm huge on the big beat stuff but I particularly enjoy that one. Anyhow, it's a great title and it represents all that shall be held holy at musicaceae.blogspot.com. Check it out here:
Propellerheads - Decksanddrumsandrockandroll

Coming soon...I'm going to ape every music critic that's written an article in the past two weeks and review the new Wilco record.