The Mary Janes - "Telescope" 7"

The Mary Janes – “Telescope” 7”

Delmore, 1994

Acquired: Love Garden Shotgun Room, Used, 2008

Price: ~$.25

 

Not judging albums or books by their covers is a ridiculous notion. I know it serves a greater metaphor/life lesson, but on a surface level interpretation of that notion it’s totally acceptable to judge albums by their covers. Or at least glean what the random 7” you’re holding in your hand might sound like. When I bought something like 80 45s for a quarter a piece, it was easy to snag a few that looked like something I might enjoy. For instance, the Mary Janes with their black-and-white cover featuring a little girl sitting in a big open field. Factoring in the name of the band and the line-up (two people: Janas Hoyt on songs and music, Kathy Kolata on acoustic and electric violas) I was able to deduce that yes, this might be interesting. And wouldn’t you know it! This duo from Indianapolis are a terrific little indie-pop group! Their songs are of the quiet variety (more Sarah Records in tone but more offbeat in their delivery a la K Records) thanks to acoustic guitars backing up the lovely violas. B-side “Baby Honey” has an alt-country tinge (the viola sounds more like a fiddle) and overall both songs are unassuming gems that have effectively been lost to the world.

I wish I had a USB turntable, because it's sad for these lovely gems to go unshared, but they can be listened to via Spotify or what have you.

Meaningful/Magical: Netural Milk Hotel Live at the Uptown Theater 2/13/14

A few years ago, Jenny and I trekked to Milwaukee to see Jeff Mangum because, we assumed, that was as close as we were going to get to seeing Neutral Milk Hotel in the flesh. The sold out yet extremely intimate show at the gorgeous old Pabst Theater was one of the most rewarding concert going experiences of my life. It was a show where everyone in the crowd knew not only how special the show was, but how special the songs were, and being surrounded by hundreds of people who have internalized all of the joy and horror and emotional devastation of Mangum’s songs is a treat.

We got let in early because Jenny is 8 months pregnant and if she didn’t get to sit in the balcony, we were probably going to have to go home. It’s the first time we have really exploited this pregnancy to get special treatment, and there was something grimly satisfying about standing in the lobby watching the people in the line that stretched down two city blocks. We got the most rockstar seats imaginable and settled in. Watching the room fill was a treat. The people at the front of the line appeared to be mostly teenagers, and the way they quite literally sprinted to the front of the stage was a perfect illustration of how Neutral Milk Hotel’s songs from 16 years ago are changing the lives of people who weren’t even born when In The Aeroplane Over the Sea was released.

15 or 16 feels like the perfect age to find your favorite band. I can’t remember exactly when or why I first listened to In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, but I do remember how I felt: “Holy Shit!” It’s a sentiment shared by the album’s producer, Robert Schneider, at the end of “Oh Comely.” It’s the only possible reaction to experiencing lightning in a bottle. Something that is absolute magic and opens up parts of your self that you didn’t know were there like the monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey. It feels like my life is divided into two sections: Before Aeroplane and after Aeroplane.

All this talk about Aeroplane obviously neglects that the band also released On Avery Island two years prior to their masterpiece which, if they had never released a second record, would probably still be very highly esteemed. But during the show, you could tell where people’s hearts were, and why it was wonderful to see tracks like “Naomi” and “Gardenhead/Leave Me Alone” played with fuzzy, raucous glee, whenever the band broke out the Aeroplane tracks if felt like they had stumbled across the answer to world peace. People arm and arm, swaying from side to side, singing along. They put down their cell phones and absorbed the moment. I can’t think of another band that might command an audience to abandon taking shitty cell phone pictures or live-blogging through an entire show.

The set opened with Jeff Mangum taking the stage alone and quickly setting in to “Two Headed Boy.” I immediately went from being pissed at the kids in the center of the room passing around a joint (“Why are kids so stupid, Jenny? I mean, how is it so hard for them to learn about consequences! Make some pot brownies! Something less conspicuous great now the whole fucking room smells like doobies!”) to the special place I reserve for listening to Neutral Milk Hotel. I must have heard that song five hundred times. When Jenny and I first started dating, there were entire days we would just lay around in my bedroom listening to this record, staring into each other’s eyes with great intensity. It’s a fairly large piece of the puzzle of our relationship, which went from listening to this album on repeat in my gross house five years ago to sitting in the balcony of the Uptown Theater with my hand on her belly feeling our daughter flail and kick at the loud music. The transcendental quality of Mangum’s songs are the only thing that have ever made me feel like I wasn’t alone in the universe, and listening to his music is as close as I get to having a spiritual experience. Seeing those songs live was like going to church and acknowledging a power greater than myself.

Although here the power was Jeff Mangum in full mountain man mode with a beard and hat obscuring his face and his merry band injecting loopy bliss into the show. Bassist/multi-instrumentalist/singing saw virtuoso Julian Koster spinning around the stage with an accordion. Gigantic Scott Spillane barking along the words to every song in between playing those horn parts that somehow make the songs even more emotionally resonant. Drummer Jeremy Barnes absolutely working magic to the point where on a couples songs I just watched to try to figure out how he was doing what he was doing and had to give up because it was too much. The whole thing was chaotic in the best way. Like a circus band giving the impression that the wheels could fall off at any moment. It was what I expected, which is what I wanted, which is what everybody wanted. It is what it was and there was a collective moment, which was the whole point.

It was so nice to see all the bullshit stripped away. Even though Jeff Mangum’s songs are cryptic and weird, they’re some of the most personal songs I’ve ever heard, which is why I cry every time I heard “Two-Headed Boy Part 2.” Which is why I was totally exhausted at the end of the show because of all the emotional energy spent. Almost all of Aeroplane was represented (“Communist Daughter” was the only track that went unplayed) as well as most of On Avery Island and deep cuts “Engine” and “Ferris Wheel on Fire.” Everything was great, the crowd was the most generous I’ve ever seen in Kansas City, and as Mangum and co played their final strums I came to peace with the fact that in all likelihood this was the first and only time I would ever see this band play. Which is fine, considering I never thought I’d get to see them play in the first place. This was never supposed to have happened, and that it did makes me a minor believer in miracles.

Marine Research - "Queen B" 7"

Marine Research – “Queen B” 7”

Where It’s At is Where You Are, 1998

Acquired: End of an Ear, Used, 2008

Price: $4

 

From the ashes of Heavenly came Marine Research. Actually, Marine Research is basically just Heavenly without drummer Matthew Fletcher, who tragically committed suicide in 1996 (The Hold Steady paid tender tribute to Matthew and the band on the track “We Can Get Together” from their album Heaven is Whenever with the line “He wasn’t just the drummer/He was the singer’s younger brother”). Somehow, Amelia Fletcher soldiered on and though Marine Research’s discography was limited to one LP—1999’s Sounds of the Gulf Stream—and three singles (one a split with Built to Spill, which have I mentioned, is totally wonderful), their more subdued indie pop  was a lovely and fitting goodbye to one of the best twee pop bands. If not thee best twee pop band. Amelia Fletcher had a way of singing that was both cute and surprisingly commanding. There wasn’t anything to write off, because like the best twee, all the cute sweet stuff was undercut with a little sadness. Something she could elegantly layer into Heavenly’s songs with real elegance. I could listen to her sing all day long. Anyone can learn to be a great, professional singer, and though many might find Fletcher’s vocals to be a bit plain, a bit normal, a bit nasal, this is the stuff that makes her songs so human and easy to identify with.

“Queen B” is Marine Research’s finest hour and serves as a great little bookend to Heavenly’s absolutely unreal run of singles. Fortunately, Amelia Fletcher is still around and making music with Tender Trap, and while I don’t think she’ll ever recapture the pure pop bliss of Talulah Gosh and Heavenly, there’s something comforting about knowing she’s still out there making music (and based on the clips I just listened to from Tender Trap’s latest album—2012’s Ten Songs About Girls—her voice is still one of my favorite things on Earth.

"Queen B"

B-side, the gorgeously melancholic, "Y.Y.U.B."

Note: For what it’s worth, Austin’s End of an Ear is in my top 3 favorite record stores in the country. Much better than the maybe more acclaimed and known Waterloo!

Guided by Voices - The Grand Hour EP

Guided by Voices – The Grand Hour EP

Scat, 1993

Acquired: Love Garden, Used, 2014

Price: $12

 

In college, I spent way more money than I should have on records. This sad fact is the reason this blog exists. In recent years, I’ve learned a great deal about self control and my record buying has been almost exclusively to buying records at work with my employee discount, and even then nothing over $10. Still, it’s incredibly dangerous walking into Love Garden with a wad of birthday cash in my wallet, and when GBV records show up, well, the money is as good as spent as GBV records are my kryptonite. The only thing other than books that I truly enjoy collecting. The Grand Hour EP was impossible to pass up, not only because of its importance in GBV’s discography (it’s not really that masterful of a record, but it almost directly precedes Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes and contains those albums’ title tracks and the 7”s weirdness is almost like a preamble to two of the greatest albums ever recorded by anyone ever) but because it has “Shocker in Gloomtown.” The song was amazingly popularized by the Breeders, but the GBV original crams an obscene amount of punch into its brisk minute-and-a-half long frame that the track positively explodes. It is infinitely replayable, and usually finds its way into the first five tracks on every GBV mix I make for the uninitiated. Outside of “Shocker in Gloomtown,” the EP is full of weirdness. A five-second snippet of the guitar line from “Hot Freaks” opens the second side and is followed by Tobin Sprout’s brief and gorgeous “Off the Floor,” which is polluted by Bob Pollard wailing and some skronky guitars in the not-so-distant background. “Break Even” nails down GBV’s knack for mid-song stylistic change by morphing a heavy stomper into a lovely acoustic interlude before turning up the heat again. The whole affair is a slice of wonderful weird.

The Grand Hour entire:

And here's the Breeders' cover of "Shocker in Gloomtown" for kicks. Notice the familiar faces hounding that Dayton, Ohio garage!

Gut Feeling: Modern Baseball - You're Gonna Miss it All

Modern Baseball – You’re Gonna Miss it All

Run For Cover, 2014

At this point, in my curmudgeonly post-college radio days, I’m mostly OK with limiting my exposure to new bands. The stable of bands I love release albums in alternating years and I can easily max out at discovering five or so new bands a year and be wholly satisfied. Such are the laurels of someone who spent a solid three-and-a-half years trying to listen to every new band in existence on the hunch that for every hundred shitty bands I listened to, there were at least ten that I would love and maybe one that would change my life.

Things are different now. These days, I troll the internet for bands that look like they might hit that sweet spot on my heart that vibrates at a frequency equal parts 1990s college rock, early 2000s pop punk, primordial and heyday 1980s and 90s indie pop, and if I’m lucky, something that satisfies all three. And a band name that doesn’t make me want to shout “PASS” from the goddamn mountaintop. Modern Baseball satisfies most of my prerequisites, and while they’re not going to change my life, I did spend the entire day greatly enjoying to their two LPs. All because I love baseball and their name was reminiscent of the band American Football. That’s all it took. Sometimes I’m easy.

Modern Baseball’s great triumph is their ability to write totally earnest songs without being self-aware in re their emo leanings. These guys are too young to be pretentious fucks. Just look at these guys! There’s just so much joy packed into these songs of youthful heartbreak, buoyed by pop-punk sensibilities but orchestrated with a surprising amount of professionalism and innovation. They’re not reinventing the wheel, but these dudes know how to effortlessly execute hooks, big satisfying guitar blasts, and a real, honest sense of fun. It’s all thoroughly charming.

On the nuts and bolts side of things, most of the songs hover around the two-and-a-half minute mark which gets an A+ in my book (note: my personal opinion on song length is if you go over three minutes, you better have a good goddamn reason) and feature enough surprise stylistic change ups, clever and playful lyrics (“Sharp as a tack not in the sense that I’m smart I’m just a prick” is the line that permanently endeared me to this group) and the hooks hit the pleasure centers in my brain while simultaneously tugging at my heartstrings which get set off by the glorious sound of of pop punk being used for good instead of mainstream evil.

Here's the terrific lead-off track "Fine, Great," but you can stream the full album over at Pitchfork if you want an earful.

Mail Order Children - Thinking of Raising a Family 7"

Mail Order Children – Thinking of Raising a Family 7”

Asian Man Records, 1998

Acquired: Asian Man Records Mail Order, New, 2002

Price: ~$.50

 

While I generally have a certain affection for late 90s ska-punk, Mail Order Children make me feel like I’m on a Tilt-a-Whirl on the verge of vomiting. It’s too fast! This is often a rally cry for certain bands. The whole “We play so fast you can’t keep up with us!” vibe. I guess it works in hardcore punk, where everything gets washed out by power chords and distortion. Here, the music is going 45 RPM and the vocals are going 33. It’s unsettling, and I feel like the grandpa yelling at the teenagers walking on his lawn. Even though I find this whole affair very exhausting, I totally understand how important this stuff was to so many teenagers in the late 90s. The first show I ever went to was an all ages ska show when I was 16. I learned to skank, I had a fucking awesome time, and though this music doesn’t hold up it doesn’t really matter because it was never meant to hold up (you could argue that trumpets and quickly upstroked guitars are the cheesy sax solo of the 90s). Kudos for the horn players for being able to play their instruments blisteringly fast. Another musical trend from the late 90s ska/punk scene that tends to get overlooked is the focus on gross-out humor. Though these songs are fairly tame, the credits feature such jobs as “Bass Rapin’  & Heartbreakin’,” “Trumpetin’ & Bumpinin’,” “Alto Saxin’ & Crotch Waxin’,” “Tenor Tweakin’ & Deep Throatin’,” and “Baritonin’ & Goat Blowin’.” While Though these hopelessly juvenile antics have mostly gone the way of the buffalo (Juggalos excluded), I gotta say, reading the words “Goat Blowin’” warmed the cockles of my heart just a little bit.

Here is an example from an anthology, as the tracks on this 7" are nonexistent in Internet form:

Blindfolded from Mail Order Children on Myspace.

The Aislers Set - "Mission Bells" 12"

The Aislers Set – “Mission Bells” 12”

Suicide Squeeze, 2002

Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2013

Price: $.25

 

The Aislers Set were part of the soundtrack to my freshman year of college, which was an insanely exciting time full of new friends, new music, and coming out of my shell like so many introverted kids before me. My freshman year girlfriend hipped me to San Francisco quintet the Aislers Set, who in a way paved the way for my full-steam-ahead indie-pop/twee obsession a few years down the line. There’s just something about the subdued pleasure of the Aislers Sets laid back yet vibrantly delightful songs that is impossible to resist. There’s a little Belle & Sebastian in the overall tone, but the group also incorporates traces of girl groups, surf, punk, and, at least on this “Mission Bells” single and its two b-sides, elements of Spanish folk music (notably the Spanish-sung version of the single, “Campanas de Mision,” which features full Mariachi guitar and horns). “Mission Bells” was the last single from the bands last album, How I Learned to Write Backwards, and while it appears The Aislers Set never officially broke up, it’s still sad that the band peaked with their most impressive album.  This single is a real treat, and it almost got tossed in the dumpster! When I took over LPs at the St. Louis Park Half Price Books, I cleaned out all of the old clearance records that had been taking up valuable space for six months and carted them out to the dumpster. I took armloads and chucked them in, and luckily, this one revealed itself at the top of one of my armloads.

"Mission Bells"
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Hot Water Music - "Moments Pass"/ "Another Way" 7"

Hot Water Music – “Moments Pass”/ “Another Way” 7”

No Idea Records, 1999

Acquired: Crossroads Music, Used, 2013

Price: $3

 

Fun fact, accidentally playing “Moments Pass” on 33 transformed this track into a really good doom metal song. At its proper speed, “Moments Pass” still grabs you by heart. The combination of Hot Water Music’s emotionally charged (read: emo-tinged a la a more energized Sunny Day Real Estate) riffs and Chuck Ragan’s sandpaper vocals have always been appealing to me. Yet for some reason, I only listened them for a brief spell at the end of high school when I was ape for Alkaline Trio. Alk3 and HWM released a split around that time (2002) and I must have listened to it a hundred times. Alkaline Trio’s cover of Hot Water Music’s “Rooftops” and HWM’s covers of Alk 3 tracks “Bleeder” and “Radio” were enough for me to order No Division from interpunk and to acquire its predecessors A Flight and a Crash and Caution through various channels. Based on the strength of these tracks, I’m thinking it’s time to dig up those albums considering I’ve totally regressed and embraced the music from my 16-18 years and “Moments Pass” ignites some severe joy in my heart and gut. Plus, it's always nice to be reminded that despite all the sink holes, invasive species, and the Jacksonville Jaguars, Florida isn't all bad.

"Moments Pass"
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"Another Way"
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The Mad Scene - Falling Over, Spilling Over EP

The Mad Scene – Falling Over, Spilling Over EP

Homestead, 1992

Acquired: Love Garden, Used, 2008

Price: $1

 

Odds are, if a band’s album’s cover art looks like it might be associated with Flying Nun Records, the band is probably affiliated with Flying Nun Records. Not only did the Mad Scene release their debut album A Trip Through Monsterland on Flying Nun, but founding member Hamish Kilgour is the same Hamish Kilgour from the Clean, which excites me to no end. I don’t know what it is about this album’s crude pastel image of a table spilling over a bunch of shit, but there’s something about the alluring amateurishness that matches the bands you typically found on Flying Nun. People who weren’t career musicians who made some of the most blissful alt-pop you’ve ever heard. I was just talking about Flying Nun with Jenny yesterday, as she just fell in love with Lorde and of course I had to get on my “You know what else is from New Zealand and paved the way for all kiwi pop?” soapbox which she has probably tuned out a hundred times. Oh, to live in New Zealand in the early 90s. Beautiful scenery, excellent weather, and a government that funds the countries arts and music scene.

Despite the New Zealand roots, the Mad Scene was based in NYC. In addition to Flying Nun, the band was signed by a veritable who’s who of fantastic indie rock labels throughout their career (Homestead, Merge, Siltbreeze). While the sparse, post-punk forward title track is a bit sloggish, the two tracks on this 7”s double A side are as joyful and pleasant as the album’s cerulean vinyl. The guitars on “People to Talk to” chime and jangle in that way that only guitars from Oceania seem to chime and jangle. There’s a post-punk backbone to that track, but the delicious sunny riff shines over everything. Vocal duties on the more indie-pop driven “Paper Plane” are handled by Kilgour’s foil Lisa Siegel, who delivers the vocals in way not dissimilar to Yo La Tengo’s Georgia Hubley (who, by the by, has been part of the band’s revolving door lineup throughout the years). Wonderful stuff. Now excuse me while I try to track down their full-lengths.

Here's "Choose" from their Merge-released sophomore LP Sealight.

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Barbara Manning - "Don't Let it Bring You Down" 7"

Barbara Manning – “Don’t Let it Bring You Down” 7”

Forced Exposure, 1990

Acquired: Crossroads Music, Used, 2013

Price: $2

 

Years ago, I chronicled my affinity for Barbara Manning’s voice in a write-up of her album with the SF Seals. In my head, Manning is probably best known for singing the lead-off track on Stephin Merrit’s side-project the 6ths, which seems slightly a shame because her own stuff is absolutely lovely. Even when she’s singing other people’s songs, as she does here with a celtic-inspired version of Paul McCartney’s “Don’t Let it Bring You Down,” there is an intangible charm that immediately wins me over. Manning isn’t someone who is going to be renowned for her pipes, but her down to earth vocals are precisely why I like her music so much (her cover of Portastatic’s “Through With People” is also great, by the way). One of my favorite aspects of indie pop has always been not-professionally-trained singers having their way with pop songs. There is a real beauty in someone with a human-sounding voice singing a delicious pop hook in a world where mainstream pop songs are produced like sausages. Did I mention how good this cover of “Don’t Let it Bring You Down” is? I’ve listened to it five times in a row this morning and it is so pleasant. The way this song feels huge with just a jangly guitar, some light percussion, a celtic flute, and some aptly timed vocal harmonies on the chorus is a feat. The b-side, “Haze is Free (Mounting a Broken Ladder),” is a sparse and simple lo-fi affair that perfectly captures feeling of being in a pitch-dark bedroom after a nasty break-up and features lines like “I wish I could mail you a vial of tears.” It’s an interesting contrast to the pop majesty of the a-side, but welcome indeed.

Of course, I can't dig up either of these tracks on the web, so here's another Barbara Manning cut from roughly the same time period. Taste the 90s!