Disregard the inane bullshit she jokes about at the start of this song (and unfortunately there are several bouts of inane banter across all of A Radical Recital delivered with varying degrees of awkward nervousness) and pay attention instead to how bizarrely sexy this song is.
I am lacking the words today. I had something introspective thought out but then the second I started typing it all exited my brain like so many wisps of smoke dissipating into the air, never to be seen again. Right now my innermost thoughts are merging with the atmosphere, blocking UV rays.
I don't remember how I originally discovered Rasputina. I'm sure I was travelling around recommended gothy music and just happened to land myself on Transylvanian Concubine, 'cause that's their most popular song. From there I never really got into them, as there is just something a little too weird about a lot of their stuff, but I really dig A Radical Recital. It's a very lively live album, complete with a really bitching cover of Barracuda (come on, Barracuda performed by two distorted cellos, what could be cooler?) and a live version of High on Life that closes the set that really kicks my ass.
One of the most unfortunate things about life is that you can never really know for sure where your choices will take you, but when you try to imagine the life of another person flowing into the future it's pretty easy to see where they're going to go. Why do we feel like we can foresee the future of others but not our own? Why is what I should do not clear to me?
We fail to accept for ourselves the fates we assign to others. I suppose so much of everything is inevitable in the end that fighting it is how we subconsciously entertain ourselves. How boring would life really be if we always did what we told someone else they should do? "Stay away from that guy!" Please, and miss out on all that tasty drama? "I don't think you should unicycle on that bridge railing!" Come on, if I fall I'll fall toward the bridge, not away from it.
But really, making choices in life sucks. I feel consumed by a paralyzing fear that I am just wasting my time, and I try to convince myself that I have nothing but time to waste but I really don't feel like I do anymore. I've only got another 40 to 60 years of my life left, and I'm only going to be young for so many of them. What are the chances that I'll be George Clooney and still be all smokin' hot and charismatic at 50? Fuckin' slim. Real fuckin' slim.
So what do I do?
I guess I should just do what I'd tell someone who isn't me.
The time of the day that I write on my site is a bad time, really. Usually I am busy at work in the mornings so I kind of have to crank out one of these posts, though sometimes it's easy going and I can put some effort into one. For the most part, however, I write this stuff out in the span of 20 minutes, publish it, and move on. Lately I've been disappointed with this regimen, believing that it doesn't give me time to properly suss out something good to write. I'm right, and I'm also wrong.
I just lack inspiration for the most part. I started this site so I could talk personal stories about songs that relate to me, but it seems like I exhausted most of those within the first 200 days of songs. Now I'm just cataloging and reviewing all the good stuff I listen to, which isn't a big deal or a bad thing, but I wish there was more here. I wish I still felt like I had something interesting to say. The drama and excitement has been bled from my life, and now all I am is a stoner unicyclist who never does anything, and now that LOST is over I don't know what I am supposed to do with my life. Was my purpose on this Earth to do something other than watch LOST? Is it true that when the Losties found each other, we, the fans, ourselves, became lost?
Still Flyin' is an interesting band, especially when you discover them because you heard "The Hott Chord Is Stuck" and expect the band to sound largely similar to it. They don't. While "Hott Chord" is like Akron/Family by way of Paul Simon, the rest of Never Gonna Touch The Ground errs on the side of rock steady/reggae, which isn't bad... it's just not my thing.
There's interesting moments across the whole album, like how "Haunted Houses" is an interesting homage to horror movies that echoes shades of The Polyphonic Spree, but ultimate fails to motivate me toward anything at all. At the end of the day the one true keeper is this song, with the cheerleader chant of "ECH OH TEE TEE, SEE ECH OH ARE DEE" and the bouncy upbeat feel that doesn't seem tired or cliche like several of the other songs across the album.
I can't believe it's been three year since Year Zero came out. That just floors me.
This album holds a special place in my heart. When Reznor released With Teeth and displayed himself as sober (and buff) it seemed like my near ten year fandom was coming to an end. (Admittedly 9 years is not very long...) Teeth was pretty much terrible, seeming mostly like emasculated dance music to me, or at the very least it seemed wimpy, you know? I just couldn't get behind it. Nine Inch Nails, the band that shaped who I was and am, had thrown in the towel.
But the Year Zero Alternative Reality Game gave me a lot of hope for the album. At the time, early in 2007, I, like a lot of young hippie liberal douches, felt almost terrified at the state of the US government, all Big Brother-like and shit, wiretapping and declaring holy war on terrorists and all that, so when the Year Zero stuff showed up going, "I bet the world will be even worse in the future, with drugged water supplies and complete media lockdown," I was there to eat it all up. The paranoia, fear, and anger were all channeled by Year Zero.
Besides, it was kind of fun to follow the story. There was a complete cast of characters in the ARG, and when the album finally came out it was fun to listen and discover that the album itself is from the perspective of the characters of the ARG. It's easy, if you're familiar with the ARG, to pick which song applies to each character. It also, I think, strengthens the emotional bond to the music.
For me, ever since I saw it in the video, I've been attracted to the idea of The Presence. I think the truth of the matter is that even non-believers like myself like the uncomfortable notion, the fear as it may be, that there is something watching over us. Not only that it is watching over us, but like in this song, judging us. Not even me, but you, it's judging all of you, and you're being found wanting.
What if one day a giant hand did reach down from the sky in front of you, burying its fingers in the ground? What would you do? What would I do? I have no fucking clue, but it would be awesomely terrifying. A once in a lifetime experience, for sure, unless you made friends with it and then it came down from the sky every now and then just to play pool with you and rock back a couple cerveza.
Anyhoo, Year Zero, possibly the last truly great Nine Inch Nails record.
I wasn't familiar with Clem Snide before I heard this song.
Goddamnit, I am drawing a complete blank here.
This sucks.
Pitchfork really doesn't like this album, and I only kind of like it. Mostly the first two songs, which includes this one, are what I like about it. All in all it's a nothing special kind of record, but this Denise song is pretty swell.
Tomorrow I'll write something awesome. Today you just get a song.
Almost ten years ago now I went through a David Bowie phase. It began mostly because of Trent Reznor's involvement with I'm Afraid Of Americans was most pleasing to my twelve year old ears, which were in the process of falling deeply in love with all things Nine Inch Nails. I figured that if Reznor liked Bowie, then I'd like Bowie. Scratchy MP3s of Bowie playing live with NIN further reinforced the notion that I should probably be listening to David Bowie.
I ended up buying a copy of Earthling and even though I didn't understand it---the fact that it was basically Bowie trying to cash in on electronic dance music (fans call it "reinvention", detractors call it "desperation") when I was currently mostly intrigued by industrial music left me wanting, and I thought the non-Reznor mix of I'm Afraid of Americans was pretty much terrible---it still made me want to dive into Bowie.
1. Outside really did it for me. This was an album that was dark and hard to understand, basically as close as Bowie would ever get to sounding like Nine Inch Nails, which wasn't close at all. Even to my twelve or thirteen year old ears, I could hear that there was something strained about it. Fact is, if you really listen, after 1983 pretty much everything David Bowie does feels kind of strained and labored. (This notion is further reinforced by his public statements that in the 80's he was just a big sell out.)
As a related aside: China Girl is probably one of the most obnoxious songs I have ever heard.
I hardly listen to any Bowie anymore. I think I just grew out of it. I can read a song list and sing parts of every Bowie song imaginable in my head for the most part, but my days of actually sitting down and listening to Bowie albums has passed. David Bowie, Radiohead, Aphex Twin, and Garbage, four artists I listened to in my youth that I no longer have the stomach for. It's kind of sad, really.
I tweeted, while listening to this album, that the new Blitzen Trapper sounds like Dr. Dog, which is pretty much what their last album sounded like. I suppose it's almost like arguing semantics: Does Blizten Trapper sound like Dr. Dog with prog rock influences, or does Dr. Dog sound like a kind of crappy Blitzen Trapper?
In either case, both bands usually leave me feeling kind of underwhelmed, but Blitzen Trapper has seemed to take a cue from how well awesome the titular track off Furr was and continued the trend of one of those songs per record.
This is that song. The lyrics aren't as good as Furr, but they're still emotional and they still tell a story in abstract. The mix on this song is so clean, whoever recorded and mixed the harmonica bits is a genius, because that is the most perfect harmonica sound for this specific song that I could ever imagine. It's just lovely.
But, yes, the rest of the album still sounds like the same ol' Blitzen Trapper so if you're like me, and maybe you just don't get them, then your mileage may vary. Me, myself, I'll just stick with this song. There isn't even a Sleepy Time In The Western World prog-folk epic. If I had to choose, if the band showed up at my door and asked me, I'd vote that they'd go in the direction of prog-folk more often. Even this song can kind of qualify, it's got near-Lamb style lyrics.
Mini Mansions is composed partly of Queens of the Stone Age's most recent (Era Vulgaris-era) bassist, Michael Shuman (that's the significant part of who they are). I just recently got a hold of their near album length EP and it's pretty good. They play what sounds like a mixture of The Beatles and the kind of nonsensical near-crap that Liam Finn keeps putting out, with a touch of Elliott Smith thrown in (but none of Smith's emotional urgency or constant whiny pining for drugs).
I, for some reason, can't stop listening to this song, Majik Marker. I'm not even sure what the hook is---it's definitely not the stream of consciousness nonsense lyrics---though I suspect it might be his repeated "eh heh heh heh" which is unique enough to stick out in my head and make me want to listen to it over and over again.
I also love the lyric "all the girls at my school are ventriloquists" which means absolutely nothing to me but I feel like there is an emotional component to it that I can understand on some base level, deep in my chest, where the part of me that is still wounded by my grade school years lurks in the darkness, waiting to hang me when all eyes are averted.
Sometimes you discover a band that is so you you have to wonder how you spent years never hearing a single damn word about them. Black Moth Super Rainbow is one of those bands for me. This is the sort of thing that really excites me about music: there's so much of it out there that there will always be something out there already in existence that you like that you haven't heard before. (And if it doesn't already exist and you don't even know you'd like it, someone will make it. That's why we have Sleigh Bells.)
Black Moth Super Rainbow play an electronic blend of psychedelia that can be compared to Caribou's Andorra (to the point you have to wonder if Caribou was inspired by Black Moth Super Rainbow) but with the main differences being a completely vocodered vocal (which is surprisingly not at all annoying and makes me think "less annoying Alaska in Winter") and a liberal dose of synthesizers.
There aren't a lot of hooks across this album, it's more something you put on while you get high on a lazy Sunday afternoon drive with the sunlight in your face, but it's not in that way that bothers you, but in that way that makes you feel warm and happy.
To summarize: this is happy sunlight music. (It's even a good night time chill out record...)
I really love Holy Fuck's LP. It is an album suited to many occasions, and most of them being occasions during which you are completely wasted and fucking shit up. Their new album, Latin, isn't particularly music to get drunk and fucked shit up on, but more like moody background music for a kickback with about seven stoners passing a bong around.
That's not to say that the music isn't good, because Holy Fuck doesn't disappoint in the musicianship department. It's just that there is a change of mood, and it's evident immediately in opener 1MD which is a pensive 4 minute long build. Seriously, it goes on for four minutes, and there are no hooks to it except that it really does just build for four straight minutes. Other tracks, like the near titular Latin America is another song based on a moody riff that builds slowly throughout the track. There wasn't anything on LP that felt moody, but Latin is full of emotions.
On my first listen, Stilettos was the only song that really made me take notice. I remember it well, because I looked at my iPod and saw that it took 7 tracks for me to finally take note of a track. That says something, I think, but what speaks louder is that right now, listening to it for the third time, a lot of the tracks ares starting to sound better and better.
Perhaps at first I was disappointed that this wasn't LP2, but now I'm getting over that. The moodiness, the scope of emotion now evident in these Holy Fuck songs, are a definite change for sure, but it's a welcome change. Sometimes it's hard to remember that change isn't all bad. This is the Holy Fuck chill out record.
Now the reasonable part of me, the part of me that knows that there is going to be a Polyphonic Spree album this year and that I haven't listened to the new National (but they're so popular now!) yet, doesn't want to sling hyperbole at Sleigh Bells and declare that Treats might just be album of the year, already, just a little over four months into it, but part of me can't help it.
Sleigh Bells might be record of the year. Who knows, maybe I'll keep listening to it and eventually get annoyed, but I will tell you this: this was a record made for nice stereos with serious subwoofers. If you listen to it on laptop speakers, iPod earbuds, or desktop satellites, streaming over the internet, you just won't get it. You'll probably think it sounds like shit for the most part, and wonder why anyone would listen to this...
But when you put it in a nice stereo (like the one in my car) it is amazing. The beats blast you into an awesome mindset, and her breathy vocals lull you into a place of comfort. The guitar can be abrasive, it can be gentle, like in this song, it can sound like dueling chainsaws, it's all over the place and it, again, is awesome.
That's really all I can say about this album, this song, it is pretty much awesome. There are only two tracks that struck me as kind of meh but aside from that, there is a lot to love on Treats and I hope you have a powerful stereo to play it loudly through, because this is meant to be heard loud and with the bass cranked.
Seriously, awesome album is awesome. If I could pick you up in my car just so you could hear this album the way it was meant to be heard, I would do it. Email me your address. I'll be there. I promise.
(Thank you to Pigeons and Planes for being my quick go-to to grab an MP3 of this because I was too lazy to transcode it myself. Stupid M4A iTunes shit.)
The videogame DiRT 2 (rally racing) has pretty much completely genius sound design when it comes to how they integrate licensed music into the experience. While music never plays during the races (and thank god for that), every other part of the game is steeped in music. While you're in the games menu system (a virtual tour inside your trailer and the event happening outside) you can hear the music in the distance, as if being performed by a live band a distance away. When you pick a race and the loading screen snaps up, the music gets loud and clear, practically smacking you in the face.
What's distinctive about DiRT 2, however, is that when you're in your trailer the song is just playing, beginning, versus, chorus, everything, but when you snap to a loading screen, when the music gets loud and clear, the game always jumps the song to the chorus or "the best part" of it. This happens before races and after races, and thusly you end up listening to a lot of the best part of a song over and over again, which thoroughly brain washes you into loving the song.
Edith, while one of the songs DiRT 2 brainwashed me into loving, I would probably love regardless of DiRT 2. This song is just one giant hook, one after the other. Not only is the main riff itself one helluva hook, but the chorus vocals ("while we ride together now, here to make a scene we don't wanna turn the music down") are infectious party nonsense, and even the two verses themselves are, in a way, addicting (especially when he falsetto howls 'anesthetized' and 'it's burned').
Best of all is that the song is complete nonsense, which sometimes I hate and sometimes, like in the case of this song, I love. I mean, the first verse is basically "I smoke a lot of pot" and the second verse is "I smoked a lot of pot and because of that I burned my chicken and now I am going to be hungry". Who is Edith and what does she have to do with the verses, or what does the verses have to do with the chorus? I don't know. All the lyrics I've found online for this song say nothing of what they say after they shout the name Edith (sounds like "You're sweetness" which would work).
Either way, I think this song is pretty bitchin'. I haven't listened to the album I link to from here, just the EP I discovered this song on. The Hot Melts' other songs are interesting, they almost don't have their own sound, and out of four songs I swear they cover four genres. The last song on the EP sounds like it's one twangy accented vocal away from being a country song. Very interesting to say the least. YMMV as always.
Yesterday I listened to this song on repeat about eight times a row, turned up loud with all the windows rolled up, smoking about a gram worth of herb in my car, while I drove around Turnbull Canyon. My girlfriend and I had mostly agreed to break up in the most underwhelming manner that we have so far (compared the ten thousand times previous), and this song seemed somewhat therapeutic. It's not how I feel, maybe it's how she feels. I don't know.
There's a lot of greatness in this song. I love the intro loop, the guitar layered over it, the vocalist who sounds kind of like the chick from Metric without the whole, you know, Metric thing (meaning that Mouthful of Diamonds only sounds like it would be in a bizarro-world iPod commercial). I really like the high pitched bleep-squeak accent throughout the song, easiest to hear in the intro loop.
The rest of the album is... well, it's pretty telling when a band opens their album with their strongest track. Usually acts put their strongest song second, and when a band starts with the opening track it usually means the rest of the album mostly sucks (like The Hours with Ali in the Jungle which I'll be posting this week) and that is kind of the case here. Eyelid Movies is not a terrible album, but merely one that is underwhelming especially in contrast to the strength of the first track. YMMV. Maybe you'll love it.
This is one of those unfortunate albums where you discover it due to the one song that doesn't sound like anything else on the album. Die! Die! Die! must have known that this would happen, though, being that they are a punk band and that Sideways Here We Come isn't really punk at all... it's got a sort of melancholy 80's vibe to it. It definitely sounds like something a band full of hipsters would put out, you know, not a bunch of punks.
The rest of the album, though, definitely sounds punk. It's abrasive, kind of hard to listen to at times, and there's a whole lot of shouting. This is to say, of course, that I can't imagine I'll be listening to any of it ever again, but this song is buttloads of win. Buttloads, I'm adding that shit to my spellchecker.
TGIF! I promise you a week straight of updates next week. This is also one of many songs you'll see put up because it is on the DiRT 2 soundtrack and that game is programmed to embed songs into your psyche.