Thursday, August 14, 2014

Covered Up: The Mountain Goats - "Pet Politics" (Silver Jews)


The Mountain Goats – “Pet Politics” (Silver Jews)
The Believer Music Issue, 2005

Take a band I already love and adore (The Mountain Goats) and have them cover a band I’ve heard of, but never given a chance because the recordings I heard sounded like garbage (Silver Jews’ The Arizona Record) and you basically have indie rock alchemy. “Pet Politics” makes you stop whatever you’re doing and listen to David Berman’s poetry. Even through the conduit of John Darnielle, the apocalyptic essence of this song remains intact. I immediately got TheNatural Bridge and its follow-up, AmericanWater, but it was the latter that blew my mind. Just broke it wide open and showed me the beautiful mind of America’s best contemporary songwriter. Ever since I could appreciate music, I’ve been chasing the feeling that comes with discovering a band that you’re going to carry with you the rest of your life. This cover is good, but there’s a weight that Berman brings to the original that just can’t be replaced by anyone.

Silver Jews - "Pet Politics"
 

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Black Flag - "TV Party" 7"

Black Flag – “TV Party” 7”
SST/ Unicorn, 1982
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2014
Price: $3

Black Flag’s ripping bit of satire against a generation glued to their televisions unable to talk about anything but their favorite shows feels eerily applicable to thse modern times where people can’t even take their eyes off their phones to drive their fucking cars. Or take their eyes off of there computer screens where they sit reading commentaries on 30 year old seven-inch records. The greatest feat of “TV Party” isn’t its satire, but that it’s a fucking blast. Just a joy to listen to. A group of punker dudes having a ball. The Chuck Dukowski loops around like someone stumbling around a room and the hilarious chant-a-long lines like “Don’t talk about anything else/ We don’t wanna know!/ We’re dedicated/ To our favorite shows!” make you want to chant right along with the gang. The icing on the cake is the shouted television programs that litter the song (“Dallas!” “Monday Night Football!”). The B-Sides “I’ve Got to Run” and “My Rules” are a couple of Damaged b-sides that have a little bit of My War on them. Fun fact: Five years ago I compared “Loose Nut” to a drunk guy stumbling around the room! I don’t know whether this is the universe trying to tell me something, or I’ve got one simile for cyclical music made by schlubs.

"TV Party"

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

B-Side Worship: Superchunk - "Home at Dawn"

Superchunk – “Home at Dawn”
Snap! Crackle! Punk!, 1994

Superchunk have a lot of fucking fantastic fist-pumping anthems. They’re the flagship jams that people think of when they think of Superchunk. “Slack Motherfucker.” “Precision Auto.” “Hyper Enough.” “Detroit Has a Skyline.” These are all songs that are very near and dear to me, but my favorite Superchunk song is one of their least fist-pumpy songs, “Home at Dawn.” It’s special for a few reasons, a big one being I’d never heard it until I randomly found it on vinyl at Love Garden, took it home, threw it on the turntable, and proceeded to listen to it twenty times. I couldn’t get enough. I still can’t get enough. It’s one of those songs I’ll listen to on repeat. The way that guitar line reels with the character in the story Mac is telling us. The embarrassment of walking home after spending most of the night with someone. Probably hungover. Definitely hungover. It’s so beautifully realized, it puts you right there. On that sidewalk, stumbling over the bricks as the sun starts to creep over the horizon. No traffic on a usually busy street. Everything simultaneously new and ending, locked in a loop. I’ve already covered this song on this blog already, but I love it so much I’m covering it again.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Purple Ivy Shadows - Circle Psychic Baby EP

Purple Ivy Shadows – Circle Psychic Baby EP
Spin Art, 1994
Acquired: Love Garden Shotgun Room, Used, 2007
Price: $.25
Dream pop gets its name because it’s dreamy. Shimmering, sparkling, low energy but brimming with beauty. Purple Ivy Shadows make music that sounds like it’s coming from an actual dream. It has dreamy elements, but the hypnotic A-side “Psychic, Baby” sounds like something out of a weird dream. Not necessarily pretty, and actually maybe a little unsettling. It’s a strange track, especially in comparison to the B-side “Circleye” which has the shimmery, dreamy dream pop/shoegaze quality I was talking about with a little jangly guitar thrown in to date it somewhere circa 1993. 1994? Yep, 1994. That said, the songs on this 7” are quite lovely. The Providence, RI group released five albums between 1997 and 2002, which is impressive. The most fascinating aspect of this 7” for me is that it was engineered by Dave Auchenbach who eerily has produced/engineered a bunch of the 7”s in my collection (see also: Honeybunch “Count Your Blessings,” Small Factory (with whom he played guitar), the first Kind of Like Spitting record, the second Versus record). Ok, not that many, but enough to where I recognize his name and can give a silent nod of respect to his page on Discogs.

"Feeble" (from the band's 1997 album No Less the Trees Than the Stars)

Friday, August 8, 2014

Death Cab for Cutie - Transatlanticism

Death Cab for Cutie – Transatlanticism
Barsuk, 2003 (2013 Reissue)
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2014
Price: $7.50
The only thing you need to know about my relationship is that, in the late summer of 2005, I listened to this at top volume in my new bedroom at my first apartment while hammering together a shitty particle board dresser at midnight. All while singing along and getting very emotional. It was an emotional time, the first time I’d dealt with relationship-y relationship drama since high school. Because there is no line that fits your complicated relationship drama like “I NEED YOU SO MUCH CLOSER.” I also drew a comic comparing my relationships with Death Cab for Cutie songs that was never finished because it kept evolving and by the time I met Jenny it was the most embarrassing thing I’d ever created. Most of the songs were culled from Transatlanticism, because of course they were. No album in recent memory really captures all of the embarrassing sadness of suburban white kids falling in love.

And as a suburban white kid, I have a special place in my heart for Death Cab for Cutie’s best, most complete album (but only if you discount The Postal Service’s Give Up, which is the best Death Cab album Death Cab didn’t make). This thing oozes with sentimentality, and my sentimental attachment to it makes it hard to analyze it with any sense of objectivity. Transatlanticism has some cringe-worthy moments. The lyric sheet for “Title & Registration” and the unbearably awful earworm of “The Sound of Settling” are rough. It also has some big, dramatic grand gestures like the build and break in “Expo ‘86” and one of the album’s truest, most affecting tracks “We Looked Like Giants,” which cuts through all the sad sack shit with lines like “We looked like giants in the back of my gray subcompact/ Fumbling to make contact as the others slept inside.” The spare closer “A Lack of Color” delivers twenty times more emotional impact than the title track that feels structured to make your heartstrings bend and break. It caps an album that, while not traditionally Emo, might as well be because goddamn, so many emotions.

Though sentimentality reigns, it’s not really a bad thing. Or I can’t really recognize it as a bad thing. Like I said, I sang along to “Transatlanticism” while hammering tiny nails into the back of a dresser. That shit was deeply felt. But my favorite tracks on the album were the ones like “We Looked Like Giants” and “Tiny Vessels.” Those tracks captured the ugliness of young love in a way that contrasts so nicely with lines like “When you feel embarrassed, then I’ll be your pride/ When you need directions, then I’ll be the guide for all time.” There’s nothing sexy or sweet about a line like “You touch her skin and then you think/ That she is beautiful but she don’t mean a thing to me.” But it’s that ugly truth that makes Transatlanticism live and breathe. It’s a messy document about the inherently messy nature of love between the ages of 15 and 25. It’s inherently built for the nascent emotions of high school kids, but like a good young adult novel there’s enough truth in it for anyone to enjoy. I put all this emotional stuff behind me when Jenny and I started dating, but I still love this album, and I love looking back at all the heartbreak, all the awkward first dates, and all the uncoordinated emotionally fraught fooling around that occasionally dotted my late teens and early twenties. It was ugly, but it deserves respect because its through all that awkward and depressing stuff that you mature and make yourself ready to be an actual partner to someone instead of putting them on a pedestal or being a total dick.
Sometimes I think I’d like to reach through time and tell my angsty 17 year old self “Hey, it’s gonna be OK” because when I was 17 all I wanted was for my grown-up self to reach back in time and say, “Hey, it’s gonna be OK. You’re gonna marry your soulmate and you’re gonna have the most beautiful little baby, but you’ve gotta get through all this stupid, childish romance stuff before you can learn what love really is.” When I was at my worst, that’s what I wanted most: some sort of verification that things would work out and that I could worry a little less when waiting around for so and so to call. It’s why I want to be a young adult novelist and why everything I write automatically heads in the direction of hyper-emotional 18 year olds. I just want to say “Hey, it’s gonna be OK.” It's pretty much impossible for me to separate this album from the last ten years, and a lot of people feel the same way. It's not dated, per se, but it draws up the big fat feelings of younger, more vulnerable years.

"Transatlanticism"

"Tiny Vessels"


"A Lack of Color"

Thursday, August 7, 2014

Covered Up: Julia Holter - "Don't Make Me Over"

Julia Holter – “Don’t Make Me Over” (Dionne Warwick)
Domino, 2014

Julia Holter’s most recent albums—2012’s Ekstasis and 2013’s Loud City Song—are what gets classified as “bedtime music” in my brain. Both are fascinating, inventive works that can hold their own against the experimental vocal pop of Bjork, Kate Bush, and Laurie Anderson; but I am a broken man. I am too impatient to seriously sit and listen to record that need to be seriously sat and listened to. Loud City Song has so much going for it! Not only does it feel like a a scintillating blend of the three above mentioned artists, but there is an obvious vitality surging through that record. It took a cover song to understand that, as is often the case. I have discovered (or come to understand) so many artists based on covers they’ve performed or other bands covering their songs. Julia Holter’s cover of the Dionne Warwick classic “Don’t Make Me Over” is a sleepy showstopper. You can hear every single syllable rolling off her tongue, and in her voice you can hear the entire history of female vocal pop music unfolding. There’s an obvious adoration of 60s R&B (also evidenced by the b-side and Loud City Song album track, the Barbara Lewis cover “Hello Stranger”) but you can hear shades of Nico and Dusty Springfield too. Like any great cover, Holter’s spare rendition of “Don’t Make Me Over” preserves the essence of the original while putting her own stamp on it.

Here's Dionne Warwick's original, penned by Burt Bacharach and Hal David.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Potholder - "Unsure" 7"

Potholder – “Unsure” 7”
Pop Bus Records, 1994
Acquired: Love Garden Shotgun Room, Used, 2007
Price: $.25
“1992? 1993? Somewhere in the early 90s, for sure.” That was the first thought I had when I heard the noisy guitar squall and the thumping bass of “Unsure.” 1994 was the correct answer. I was close, but three years in the early 90s might as well have been an eternity because the grunge ship had mostly sailed by this point leaving hundreds upon hundreds of newfound alt-rock bands in its wake. Potholder plays a crunchy brand of noise rock with a bit of a grunge hangover. Naturally, like many of these seven-inch records I scooped up years ago, there is very little information about Potholder on the internet (and, also naturally, tough shit finding a song to share). Today everything is preserved, and I think I love these 90s alt-rock sevens so much because I know I am the only person on the planet listening to this record at this very moment (and maybe the only person who has listened to this record in years, who knows). It’s not like I’m fetishizing the obscure, it’s more like breathing life into this thing that’s been dormant for a decade and getting a vivid image of this time period through the music.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

B-Side Worship: The Mountain Goats - "New Chevrolet in Flames"

The Mountain Goats – “New Chevrolet in Flames”
"See America Right" Single, 4AD, 2002

Like clockwork, every new Mountain Goats record produces at least 2-6 b-sides, most of which any other band would use as a lead single on their latest album. John Darnielle is no mere mortal. Or wait, yes he is, that is part of his appeal. He’s the everyman who apparently never stops writing. Just a normal guy with a prolific streak that gives Bob Pollard a run for his money. I’ll be covering a lot of Mountain Goats tracks hroughout this feature promoting great B-Sides, but “New Chevrolet in Flames” from the Tallahassee sessions is not only my favorite MTN GTS B-Side, but my favorite B-Side of all time. It helps that Tallahassee is my favorite album and that the Mountain Goats are one of my favorite bands. It also has one of my favorite lyrics: “Oh would that you would kiss me/ With the kisses of your mouth/ Because your mouth is sweeter than wine and has a more complicated history than the American South.” AND THIS TRACK WAS BURIED IN THE “SEE AMERICA RIGHT” SINGLE! This lovely tale of getting drunk on Colorado Bulldogs (effectively a White Russian with Coca-Cola added. After falling hard for this song, I spent a period of three months asking bartenders if they knew how to make one. Most didn’t, except one guy in Austin, who made me one of the most delicious cocktails I’ve ever had) and setting a car on fire is a masterpiece.

Monday, August 4, 2014

Gut Feeling: Mac Demarco - Salad Days

Mac Demarco – Salad Days
Captured Tracks, 2014
Mac Demarco’s guitar sounds sick. Not like, “Sick brah,” sick, like in bed with a head cold sick. The easygoing riffs somehow find a way to shimmer despite sounding like they’re wrapped in gauze and played on the worst guitar in the world. Though Demarco’s tendency for raunchiness in a live setting precedes him, the image of Mac Demarco the prankster/goofball/dipshit contrasts sharply with Mac Demarco the pop genius. This motherfucker can write a motherfucking song.

Or 34 songs, for that matter. That’s how many songs he’s released in the last three years over three successive albums (2012’s Rock and Roll Night Club and 2013’s 2). Each one has been a strange, murky, hard-to-put-a-finger on blend of lo-fi bedroom pop injected with a healthy dose of total weirdness, slacker vibes oozing from slack guitars, and pure animal magnetism. I cannot stop listening to Salad Days. It’s pretty much a perfect summer record. I’ve been listening to it at work in the mornings, in the basement shooting pool on my father in law’s uneven pool table, in the car, on the back deck watching the sunset. It’s just been following me around like a mangy dog that you can’t help but love.

All of this would just be your common Brooklyn bedroom bullshit if it weren’t for Demarco’s knack for pairing his hazy, tuneful gems with surprisingly insightful, if simple, lyrics. My two favorite tracks on the record—“Let Her Go” and “Treat Her Better”—are perfect little bad boyfriend songs. Maybe I’ve just been in too many of those conversations where a buddy is telling me that he doesn’t know if he wants to be with a lady and had words like “Tell her that you love her/ If you really love her/ But if your heart just ain’t sure/ Let her go” or “Treat her better boy/ If having her around is something you enjoy.” He’s not gonna win any songwriting competitions, but the sentiment is refreshing in a songwriting world of “she done me wrong” and fuck you songs.

Salad Days is the most complete work yet from who has found a way to balance being prolific and improving on each consecutive release, and I’m sure at this rate his next album will be another gem as well. It’s not a masterpiece, but it gives me the impression that Demarco definitely has a masterpiece in him and we will probably be hearing it sooner rather than later. Demarco’s complete deconstruction of the Pop Song is marvelous, and the arsenal of earworms on this one is truly impressive.

RIYL: Ween, Real Estate with a lobotomy, A Scuzzier Jonathan Richman

"Let Her Go"

Friday, August 1, 2014

Gut Feeling: Happyness - Weird Little Birthday

Happyness – Weird Little Birthday
Weird Smiling, 2014
My notes for UK trio Happyness’s debut LP consist solely of a list of bands Happyness clearly hold near and dear to their hearts. Sparklehorse, Wilco, Eels, Yo La Tengo. There are more, but after crossreferencing this list with other reviews of the band, I noticed that I wasn’t the only one that thought Happyness act is a bit of pastiche. That’s not a burn, though, because one of my favorite new bands of the last five years—fellow Brits Yuck—released a debut that culled all the best parts of 90s indie rock and delivered it in a way that made me forget the sum of the band’s influences entirely. They synthesized the feel of Pavement and the like and reignited that part of my heart that loved the way those songs felt and made me feel. Happyness do the same damn thing and warm the particular cockles of my heart tuned into American lo-fi ramshackle pop music.

But really, I should let it be known that this band really sounds like Sparklehorse. And “Naked Pictures” sounds like it could have been a b-side from Wilco’s Summerteeth (there’s also the lyric “there’s something in you bloodier than blood” on a later album track). The downtrodden “Pumpkin Noir” plays like every Eels track that wasn’t “Novocain For the Soul.” But as the guitars jangle on, and as the influences become mixed and morph into this band’s personality, I find myself enjoying this weird little album more and more. I get the feeling that these guys are more than capable of crawling out from under the shadow of their heroes. Regardless, Weird Little Birthday is pretty damn infectious and delightful and when they're at their best (the aching penultimate track "Lofts" is a wonderfully sad, wonderfully written piece of mope pop and sounds like someone has gone over it with a highlighter) they cut right through your heart. 

"Great Minds Think Alike, All Brains Taste the Same"

"Baby, Jesus (Jelly Boy)"