listen.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Person Pitch - Panda Bear (2007)
the album starts with the sound of a goddamn rollercoaster.
a rollercoaster! the machine which gave you the greatest highs you could ever imagine when you were 10, 15, 30 years old! you ascend into the clouds where a pulsing chant embraces you, and a singer steps out of the chorus to tell you to "always have a good time." and you listen! you tap along, stomp along, sing along, whistle along, walk along, and dance along until jet after jet after jet zooms by until suddenly the darkness engulfs you, and you wonder.
i don't want to write about this album.
there are just some things that can't be converted into words. when you try, your mind turns to sludge, your typing goes all wrong, and the words on the screen reflect that. you start typing things like "it sounds like running through a meadow towards a scarecrow except the meadow is made of brain tissue and the scarecrow is a rainbow unicorn" or "it sounds like if birds had teeth and lizards had wings" or "it sounds like if all the strongest people in the world started living in trees, only coming out to eat squirrels" or "it sounds like purple dipped in cream dipped in fur dipped in girl dipped in music dipped in mind."
the alternative?
i don't know, get stoned? buy a good pair of headphones? when you wake up in the morning, listen to your alarm? hear the rain? listen to the difference between a plate and a bowl? listen to the people talking to you? (just don't listen too closely, or you might not understand what they're saying.)
"hey man what's your problem don't you know that i don't belong to you"
no, you don't. you don't belong to anybody. you're a 12-and-a-half minute composition that escapes on the wings of an owl, you've got the turnpike on your side, trucks zoom past but you laugh because you don't need a ride, you're crying because you're leaving but you know it's the right decision.
what does it mean to not be able to hear a common phrase, such as "i'm not," without singing?
"ready?"
"what?"
"nevermind."
i once read a review that said this song sounded like an Amazonian tribe perform their chants while under the influence of LSD. how stupid. it's just Noah Lennox clicking buttons on a computer. the fucking magic! in his own words, he gave the computer a soul! us humans are all about soul but i don't know what we'll do once computers have them. in other words, i'm not ready.
all of a sudden i'm supposed to enjoy a fast tempo? well, okay. chant me into submission. submit me into chanting. you're getting water everywhere. i may be marine but i might not be me, and it turns out that "/" means i'm not.
"it's not a ticket for you to pick at other people who don't know what's up like you're so sure you do"
ouch.
eventually the ice cream will come around; you can heal your wound and eat neapolitan simultaneously. what's the difference?
tigers, gorillas, seals, koalas, panda bears, and little kids. the artist knows the music.
when my soul starts growing
when my soul starts growing
when my soul starts growing
a
aa
and
i wish
i wish
i know
stop
stop
stop
and here you were, expecting something epic.
it's funny reading reviews of this album because each one of them rings so true while at the same time only capturing one facet of the whole:
"Starting an album with a clattering of industrial rhythms sliding into a huge clap-and-stompalong with angelic vocals and what sounds like the Brotherhood of Man on a vocal loop tip not far removed from Suicide or Laurie Anderson is one way to make a mark." -- allmusic
"Sometimes ominous, sometimes celebratory, always compelling, Person Pitch is as clattering and tactile as a beaded curtain." -- The Onion
"Person Pitch as a whole-- and "Bros" in particular-- evokes the sunshine of Lennox's adopted Lisbon, Portugal home. But it's the kind of light best experienced with eyes closed-- with the rays filtered through eyelids, turning the world into various shades of red and orange." -- Pitchfork
"For an album constructed from so many constituent parts, Person Pitch is amazingly warm and inviting at times, wrapping around the ears, nestling the head, and squeezing like a nice familial bear hug after years of no contact." -- Tiny Mix Tapes
"Person Pitch sounds like everything. To some, the upstroked guitars and vocal stacking in “Take Pills” make it a consummate summer record. To others, the city clacks and tracks, the sampled noise and confusion make it a winter record, the kind of thing you curl up with in front of a frosty window in order to be reminded that something exists beneath the snow." -- Aquarium Drunkard
"Person Pitch sounds like everything."
"Person Pitch sounds like everything."
"Person Pitch sounds like everything."
"Person Pitch sounds like everything."
"Person Pitch sounds like everything."
download or buy.
a rollercoaster! the machine which gave you the greatest highs you could ever imagine when you were 10, 15, 30 years old! you ascend into the clouds where a pulsing chant embraces you, and a singer steps out of the chorus to tell you to "always have a good time." and you listen! you tap along, stomp along, sing along, whistle along, walk along, and dance along until jet after jet after jet zooms by until suddenly the darkness engulfs you, and you wonder.
i don't want to write about this album.
there are just some things that can't be converted into words. when you try, your mind turns to sludge, your typing goes all wrong, and the words on the screen reflect that. you start typing things like "it sounds like running through a meadow towards a scarecrow except the meadow is made of brain tissue and the scarecrow is a rainbow unicorn" or "it sounds like if birds had teeth and lizards had wings" or "it sounds like if all the strongest people in the world started living in trees, only coming out to eat squirrels" or "it sounds like purple dipped in cream dipped in fur dipped in girl dipped in music dipped in mind."
the alternative?
i don't know, get stoned? buy a good pair of headphones? when you wake up in the morning, listen to your alarm? hear the rain? listen to the difference between a plate and a bowl? listen to the people talking to you? (just don't listen too closely, or you might not understand what they're saying.)
"hey man what's your problem don't you know that i don't belong to you"
no, you don't. you don't belong to anybody. you're a 12-and-a-half minute composition that escapes on the wings of an owl, you've got the turnpike on your side, trucks zoom past but you laugh because you don't need a ride, you're crying because you're leaving but you know it's the right decision.
what does it mean to not be able to hear a common phrase, such as "i'm not," without singing?
"ready?"
"what?"
"nevermind."
i once read a review that said this song sounded like an Amazonian tribe perform their chants while under the influence of LSD. how stupid. it's just Noah Lennox clicking buttons on a computer. the fucking magic! in his own words, he gave the computer a soul! us humans are all about soul but i don't know what we'll do once computers have them. in other words, i'm not ready.
all of a sudden i'm supposed to enjoy a fast tempo? well, okay. chant me into submission. submit me into chanting. you're getting water everywhere. i may be marine but i might not be me, and it turns out that "/" means i'm not.
"it's not a ticket for you to pick at other people who don't know what's up like you're so sure you do"
ouch.
eventually the ice cream will come around; you can heal your wound and eat neapolitan simultaneously. what's the difference?
tigers, gorillas, seals, koalas, panda bears, and little kids. the artist knows the music.
when my soul starts growing
when my soul starts growing
when my soul starts growing
a
aa
and
i wish
i wish
i know
stop
stop
stop
and here you were, expecting something epic.
it's funny reading reviews of this album because each one of them rings so true while at the same time only capturing one facet of the whole:
"Starting an album with a clattering of industrial rhythms sliding into a huge clap-and-stompalong with angelic vocals and what sounds like the Brotherhood of Man on a vocal loop tip not far removed from Suicide or Laurie Anderson is one way to make a mark." -- allmusic
"Sometimes ominous, sometimes celebratory, always compelling, Person Pitch is as clattering and tactile as a beaded curtain." -- The Onion
"Person Pitch as a whole-- and "Bros" in particular-- evokes the sunshine of Lennox's adopted Lisbon, Portugal home. But it's the kind of light best experienced with eyes closed-- with the rays filtered through eyelids, turning the world into various shades of red and orange." -- Pitchfork
"For an album constructed from so many constituent parts, Person Pitch is amazingly warm and inviting at times, wrapping around the ears, nestling the head, and squeezing like a nice familial bear hug after years of no contact." -- Tiny Mix Tapes
"Person Pitch sounds like everything. To some, the upstroked guitars and vocal stacking in “Take Pills” make it a consummate summer record. To others, the city clacks and tracks, the sampled noise and confusion make it a winter record, the kind of thing you curl up with in front of a frosty window in order to be reminded that something exists beneath the snow." -- Aquarium Drunkard
"Person Pitch sounds like everything."
"Person Pitch sounds like everything."
"Person Pitch sounds like everything."
"Person Pitch sounds like everything."
"Person Pitch sounds like everything."
download or buy.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Donuts - J Dilla (2006)
this is one of those albums designed to loop infinitely, and not just because the last song ends in sync with the beginning of the first song.
released on February 7, 2006, three days after its creator passed on, "Donuts" is a 31-track instrumental hip hop masterpiece, a journey through the dustiest yet most delicious funk, rap, jazz, and R&B vinyl sounds imaginable.
the longest track is 2:57, the shortest is 0:13, and most of the other pieces fall somewhere around 1-2min. they're more like doughnut holes than donuts, but then, holes are donuts too and, breaking apart the metaphor, these are all songs, not just brief, unprepared, hashed together thought experiments. they are J Dilla's babies, each one a little more than a peek into the man's record collection, each one a mini-factory of sound outputting clear visions of samples that J had clearly synthesized in his head for many, many years.
the most lengthy track on the record and song #2, "Workinonit," gets things started the right way. blasting off with J Dilla's signature siren call, we are launched into a bouncy room of stringed reverberation with slick drum beats pulling us through. suddenly ascending guitar solos make us forget that we're listening to a hip hop record, while a hermaphroditic voice pulls us in:
play me
play me
buy me
workinonit
workinonit
workinonit
workinonit
girls moan, the guitar solos keep recurring, then breakdown: the guitar sings heavenly, bells twinkle, and we are summoned into the next donut.
listen to "Time: The Donut of the Heart." maybe he's just playing back a Jackson 5 b-side, but i don't care. he's playing it for me and it's divine. he lets it slow down a little bit, just to make you realize how dependent you had become on that sweet melody, and then he lets it do its work at normal speed again.
try "Lightworks:" boop boop beep boop. "This is Bendix: The Tomorrow People." it sounds like he sampled and panned the hell out a commercial from the 50s or something. layering boops and beeps like something out of Kraftwerk,
who the hell is this J Dilla? James Dewitt Yancey founded Slum Village in the mid-90s, but he is most remembered today for his production skills, which, if you've ever listened to Common, Busta Rhymes, A Tribe Called Quest, or The Pharcyde, you've already experienced. he released some solo albums in the early 00s under the moniker Jay Dee and you'll find some great stuff there. in 2003, Jay collaborated with Madlib on an album called "Champion Sound," released under Jaylib. then in 2006, J Dilla gave us "Donuts," which would be so incredibly crafted out of perfectly chosen samples that it would make music lovers around the world pause and wonder, "who the hell is this J Dilla?"
some posthumous albums have made it out since the release of "Donuts," but (and i am by no means a Dilla expert) check this monster out first. if it does the same thing to you as it did to me , you'll think it nothing special until you realize you've just listened to it 15x in a row.
download or buy.
released on February 7, 2006, three days after its creator passed on, "Donuts" is a 31-track instrumental hip hop masterpiece, a journey through the dustiest yet most delicious funk, rap, jazz, and R&B vinyl sounds imaginable.
the longest track is 2:57, the shortest is 0:13, and most of the other pieces fall somewhere around 1-2min. they're more like doughnut holes than donuts, but then, holes are donuts too and, breaking apart the metaphor, these are all songs, not just brief, unprepared, hashed together thought experiments. they are J Dilla's babies, each one a little more than a peek into the man's record collection, each one a mini-factory of sound outputting clear visions of samples that J had clearly synthesized in his head for many, many years.
the most lengthy track on the record and song #2, "Workinonit," gets things started the right way. blasting off with J Dilla's signature siren call, we are launched into a bouncy room of stringed reverberation with slick drum beats pulling us through. suddenly ascending guitar solos make us forget that we're listening to a hip hop record, while a hermaphroditic voice pulls us in:
play me
play me
buy me
workinonit
workinonit
workinonit
workinonit
girls moan, the guitar solos keep recurring, then breakdown: the guitar sings heavenly, bells twinkle, and we are summoned into the next donut.
listen to "Time: The Donut of the Heart." maybe he's just playing back a Jackson 5 b-side, but i don't care. he's playing it for me and it's divine. he lets it slow down a little bit, just to make you realize how dependent you had become on that sweet melody, and then he lets it do its work at normal speed again.
try "Lightworks:" boop boop beep boop. "This is Bendix: The Tomorrow People." it sounds like he sampled and panned the hell out a commercial from the 50s or something. layering boops and beeps like something out of Kraftwerk,
who the hell is this J Dilla? James Dewitt Yancey founded Slum Village in the mid-90s, but he is most remembered today for his production skills, which, if you've ever listened to Common, Busta Rhymes, A Tribe Called Quest, or The Pharcyde, you've already experienced. he released some solo albums in the early 00s under the moniker Jay Dee and you'll find some great stuff there. in 2003, Jay collaborated with Madlib on an album called "Champion Sound," released under Jaylib. then in 2006, J Dilla gave us "Donuts," which would be so incredibly crafted out of perfectly chosen samples that it would make music lovers around the world pause and wonder, "who the hell is this J Dilla?"
some posthumous albums have made it out since the release of "Donuts," but (and i am by no means a Dilla expert) check this monster out first. if it does the same thing to you as it did to me , you'll think it nothing special until you realize you've just listened to it 15x in a row.
download or buy.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Banshee Beat - Animal Collective (2005)
i don't know what it is. that's probably a good starting point.
if there are such things as favorites, this is my favorite Animal Collective song. if you know what the sublime is, this song is it.
and no, it's not just because it's one of the band's longest songs. it has to do with how this song FEELS.
i'm trying to be eloquent about this, but it's coming out terse.
how fitting, i continue, that it comes to how this song FEELS, because that's the name of the album you find it on. this whole song just FEELS good. it FEELS like head nodding. it FEELS like dancing, swimming, climbing, loving. it makes me want to stretch my arms out, kiss the Earth, hug the solar system, and inhale the whole universe like a delicious sea breeze. you couldn't take enough bong rips to FEEL the way this song makes you FEEL. i want to mail a letter to the President asking him to listen to this song. i want to ask you to listen to this song because i want you to tell me if it's even remotely possible to experience happiness without sadness. i want you to tell me if it's possible to love without feeling a chill run down your spine. can you hug the solar system without burning your belly button?
'Banshee Beat' FEELS like life. 'Banshee Beat' is life. it's sublime.
it doesn't start with a wailing, panning guitar or tribal drumming or a wave of distortion or dazzling, psychedelic strings... no, no, no, it starts with a whisper of a strum. reverberating whispers of strums. crackling.
a man's voice. also reverberated. a hint at a piano. reverberated.
guitars coming from all sides now. whispering. walking past us talking about something. piano tones growing and dying. crackling. crickets. chirping. crackling
the man's voice stops and something starts happening. the crackling, chirping, strumming, ripping, tapping, all that noise grows in intensity. it gets braver. it approaches you, face to face.
the guitars sidle this way and that. and the voice comes back.
a booming bass drum.
every line he sings = every chill i feel.
So I duck out, go down to find the SWIMMING POOL
Hop a fence, leave the street and wet your feet to find the swimming pool
Cause when I'm snuffed out I doubt I'll find a SWIMMING POOL
Hop a fence, leave the street and wet your feet to find the swimming pool
every line he sings = every chill i feel.
the rhythms by now are at full speed, the guitar is strumming along lazily down its own reverberated river, ah ah ah ah.
every line he sings = every chill i feel.
So I duck out, go down to find the SWIMMING POOL
Hop a fence, leave the street, and wet your feet to find the swimming pool
'Cause when I'm snuffed out I doubt I'll find a SWIMMING POOL
Hop a fence, leave the street, and wet your feet to find the swimming pool
every line he sings = every chill i feel.
cue monkey sounds.
listen. download. buy.
if there are such things as favorites, this is my favorite Animal Collective song. if you know what the sublime is, this song is it.
and no, it's not just because it's one of the band's longest songs. it has to do with how this song FEELS.
i'm trying to be eloquent about this, but it's coming out terse.
how fitting, i continue, that it comes to how this song FEELS, because that's the name of the album you find it on. this whole song just FEELS good. it FEELS like head nodding. it FEELS like dancing, swimming, climbing, loving. it makes me want to stretch my arms out, kiss the Earth, hug the solar system, and inhale the whole universe like a delicious sea breeze. you couldn't take enough bong rips to FEEL the way this song makes you FEEL. i want to mail a letter to the President asking him to listen to this song. i want to ask you to listen to this song because i want you to tell me if it's even remotely possible to experience happiness without sadness. i want you to tell me if it's possible to love without feeling a chill run down your spine. can you hug the solar system without burning your belly button?
'Banshee Beat' FEELS like life. 'Banshee Beat' is life. it's sublime.
it doesn't start with a wailing, panning guitar or tribal drumming or a wave of distortion or dazzling, psychedelic strings... no, no, no, it starts with a whisper of a strum. reverberating whispers of strums. crackling.
a man's voice. also reverberated. a hint at a piano. reverberated.
guitars coming from all sides now. whispering. walking past us talking about something. piano tones growing and dying. crackling. crickets. chirping. crackling
the man's voice stops and something starts happening. the crackling, chirping, strumming, ripping, tapping, all that noise grows in intensity. it gets braver. it approaches you, face to face.
the guitars sidle this way and that. and the voice comes back.
a booming bass drum.
every line he sings = every chill i feel.
So I duck out, go down to find the SWIMMING POOL
Hop a fence, leave the street and wet your feet to find the swimming pool
Cause when I'm snuffed out I doubt I'll find a SWIMMING POOL
Hop a fence, leave the street and wet your feet to find the swimming pool
every line he sings = every chill i feel.
the rhythms by now are at full speed, the guitar is strumming along lazily down its own reverberated river, ah ah ah ah.
every line he sings = every chill i feel.
So I duck out, go down to find the SWIMMING POOL
Hop a fence, leave the street, and wet your feet to find the swimming pool
'Cause when I'm snuffed out I doubt I'll find a SWIMMING POOL
Hop a fence, leave the street, and wet your feet to find the swimming pool
every line he sings = every chill i feel.
cue monkey sounds.
listen. download. buy.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Dayvan Cowboy - Boards of Canada (2005)
Tranquility in things larger than ourselves.
Dayvan Cowboy (video, Warp Records)
for reference:
Wikipedia: Dayvan Cowboy
Wikipedia: Project Excelsior
Wikipedia: Le Grand Saut
Dayvan Cowboy (video, Warp Records)
for reference:
Wikipedia: Dayvan Cowboy
Wikipedia: Project Excelsior
Wikipedia: Le Grand Saut
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Nine Inch Nails: Live
this is how i got into Nine Inch Nails:
it has always been about the live experience with this band. before i fell into The Downward Spiral, before i touched The Fragile or Pretty Hate Machine, there was And All That Could Have Been and nothing else.
i've come to realize that my main criterion for judging music is sincerity. i don't care if you sound like death metal or like a guy dragging a tipped over ice cream truck or something in between: as long as what you're doing is making you happy, as long as you are making music that you love, then i love it too. and what better test is there for sincerity than a live demonstration?
if you watch that video, you'll see NIN performing the usual two first songs of their Fragility Tour shows, "Terrible Lie" and "Sin." and, in less than ten minutes, you'll see the energy, the love, the destruction, the emotion, the absolute fucking sincerity of Trent Reznor performing his music.
sure, he's wearing a mask of cornstarch and makeup and, whatever, the videos are not actually complete performances, instead composed of patched up clips from ten different shows, but these things don't make Trent seem any less sincere. what's really important is how much detail goes into each performance. notice every flash of lighting, perfectly matched up with a synth or drum break. notice the structure of the bandmembers on stage, like a pentagon: bassist, front left. keyboardist, back left. guitarist, front right. drummer, back right. Reznor, center stage. five musicians with the main man at the front leading the charge. beyond that, there's the obvious stuff. the whole band headbanging like they fucking mean it (take a look at 4:30-4:50, in particular... those 20 seconds practically taught me how to headbang). you don't headbang the whole song, goddamnit, you wait until that shit breaks, and you follow the dynamics closely. this is a science. then at 5:10, there's that fucking lighting again. a guy playing a theremin. strobe lights. the usual, the weird, the greatness.
but i'm not posting this just to talk about And All That Could Have Been, although that album and all of its distinct parts (CD/DVD/Still) certainly deserve their own posts. this is the Nine Inch Nails live experience. and though they are all created equal in awesomeness, they are not all the same.
it used to be a lot messier. NIN's Woodstock 1994 performances are famous because, just minutes before going on stage, the band got into a fun little mud fight backstage, making for quite the picture-perfect look onstage:
there are legends that tell of performances on the Spiral tours in 94-95, in which, sick of sitting in bloody fucking SEATS at a Nine Inch Nails show, rabid fans tore apart whole rows and sections of seats, ripping them straight out of the ground. whether those stories are true or not, there's plenty of evidence on Closure, the documentary of that tour, that the band caused enough destruction themselves to not even warrant the extra legends. check out the trailer for Closure for a peak into the madness:
a few years later, things got toned down a little bit on the Fragility tour, which i've already talked a little bit about above. Trent was still doing a shit ton of drugs, but he was destroying himself more than hotel rooms (oh, fragile Trent) and focusing his madness more on the visual experience than on anything else.
and that ended the era that i would never get to see because i was too young.
when i finally got into the band, Nine Inch Nails didn't really exist. it was 2003 or so, And All That Could Have Been was three years in the past and the last thing Trent had said was inscribed as a little message in that DVD's packaging:
with 2005 came new hope (sort of), when NINdom found out that Trent barely made it alive through a hefty battle with alcohol, cocaine, and heroin addiction. next came news of a new album. i said "new hope (sort of)" because when i heard the first new NIN song in 6 years--"The Hand That Feeds"--i instantly knew that the Reznor who had composed songs like "Terrible Lie," "Mr. Self Destruct," and "Somewhat Damaged" was a changed man now.
he would be clean, sharp, and productive as shit.
it took stoned Trent ten years to release 3 studio albums and 1 ep. it took sober Trent three years to release 4 studio albums. ridiculous. and though i'll agree that the quality of the music decreased, i can't say the same about the live experience. though i never truly experienced a pre-With Teeth show, i think i landed on the same heavenly cloud of musically energetic paradise that existed in those early years. though he may not be able to make music like he could back then, he can still play it like he used to.
i still remember the exact date the first time i saw NIN the first time: March 25, 2005. it was that time of year where my allergies start picking up, and when they pick up, so does my asthma. but fuck it. i was seeing motherfucking NIN in a tiny auditorium on the uc davis campus. i had moaned for this for too long. he opened with The Frail --> The Wretched. it was a dream come true. i screamed the whole night and nearly rushed the barricade when he started singing Piggy. i killed myself at that show.
the next day i was sick as shit, but it didn't matter. i could fucking die for all i cared because i had finally seen Nine Inch Nails live. i didn't die. i went to my computer and downloaded a bootleg of the show and listened to it nonstop for days, sick in bed. the song "With Teeth," in particular, with its soft, soothing, brutal refusal to let go of life, struck me so hard.
i was in love.
i proceeded to see NIN four more times that year: twice in the next month (two days in a row in San Francisco at a small venue called the Warfield, once with a bunch of friends and once by myself because none of my friends were as psycho as I was), once in November at the huge Oakland Arena, and once in December at a smaller venue in Santa Cruz.
the Oakland show was the one.
the show had originally been planned for an earlier date, about a month earlier, but the drummer at the time, Jerome Dillon, had repeatedly called in sick. Trent got pissed, got a new drummer, made a new date, and made it up to us more than we could have possibly imagined. Adam and i got to the venue before noon and we were still about 50 people back. we waited all day, hearing about how at other shows Trent had let NIN fan club members in for meet & greets and/or soundchecks. we got the latter. everyone casually walked into the venue as NIN was right there on stage, in broad daylight, like any other band, rocking out to Into the Void. and even when they were just playing for sound levels, they were having a good time. sincerity.
the actual show destroyed me and actually destroyed Adam. he hadn't eaten enough during the day and hardly enjoyed the show because he was dying. i didn't need food that night. firmly planted on the barricade, my arms, firmly planted on the band, my eyes, dazzled, firmly planted on the music, my mind. the light show, unlike any other NIN show (nay, any other show, by anyone) that i had every seen, was phenomenal. and they weren't just rehashing the same old shit over and over. i think Trent got sick of playing same old Closer, so he remixed it with a song from Pretty Hate Machine, "The Only Time." and it worked beautifully. check out the switch around 2:50.
i even got to experience that shit i saw on And All That Could Have Been, where in the middle of "Piggy," Trent hands the mic to a bunch of fans in front so they could sing. a few people around me and i caught a thrown microphone from Trent in the middle of "Suck" and belted out the lyrics like it was the last song in the universe. the light show was stellar, the whole band was feeling it, movement, movement, motion, motion, madness, madness, music music music music music music. i wanted to die (again).
and so it went.
in the summer of 2006, i saw NIN at Mountain View with my dad. another great show, and the second time a parent of mine attended a NIN show with me. (the first was in Oakland, but my mom and little brother were in the seats while i was at the barricade with Adam... not everyone likes getting to shows nine hours early.)
a year ago was the first time i took a girlfriend to a Nine Inch Nails show. i thought it would suck. for years, i had witnessed boyfriends have miserable times trying to defend their little girlfriends, half the time fighting with everyone around them instead of making love to Trent. thank god, Meryl and i got to the show ballsass early, like Adam and i in 2005, and we got barricade, once again. protecting the girl was hardly a problem.
the show itself, of course, was amazing. it got interactive again, too. to go along with the Year Zero theme, security-style cams displayed everyone at the barricade in our section on giant screens in the arena during "Survivalism." so silly, but so fun.
my favorite part of this show was the Ghosts breakdown. of all of NIN's new releases, Ghosts is the best. it's experimental and instrumental and glorious sound manipulation, which is all music is. oh, and it feels sincere. at the show, the band replicated a few songs off the album with upright bass and xylophones and all sorts of strange instruments i don't know the names of. oh yeah, and the lighting ruled, of course.
i saw Nine Inch Nails for the eighth and (supposedly) last time two nights ago. and i've concluded a few things: Trent loves music, NIN still rocks, and Trent loves music. over the course of the night he had a bunch of his friends, influences, and more come on stage to play music with him over the course of the 31-song and 2.5 hour set. they included Gary Numan, Eric Avery of Jane's Addiction, Greg Puciato from Dillinger Escape Plan, and Danny Lohner, the bassist from the Fragility tour. in the following video, Mike Garson, who was David Bowie's keyboardist back in the day and played those insane arpeggios on The Fragile for "Just Like You Imagined," made an appearance to add some piano mischief to the standard NIN repertoire.
i was stunned. and almost died (once again).
also, i'd be stunned if you actually read this whole thing. i just wanted to express how important the Nine Inch Nails live experience has been to me over the years and how, i'm sure, it will continue to be important to me for the rest of my life.
probably for a very long time, i will continue to say that a mass of people ebbing to Nine Inch Nails performing "Terrible Lie" live is probably the best possible thing that anybody can ever experience. i will compare all light shows to NIN's light shows. i will compare all bands' endurances to the endurance of a band that can rock and rock hard for well over 2 hours. every night. i will compare the dedication of other musicians' fans to the dedication of NIN fans who line up before the sun starts rising just for a barricade spot. at every show. i will compare the recording policies of other bands to NIN's policies, which strictly demand that everyone bring an HD camera and sturdy tripod to the show for the best quality possible. and, more than anything, i will compare your favorite musician's sincerity to the sincerity of Trent Reznor, who bleeds the stuff from his fucking eyes and throat.
sincerity.
it has always been about the live experience with this band. before i fell into The Downward Spiral, before i touched The Fragile or Pretty Hate Machine, there was And All That Could Have Been and nothing else.
i've come to realize that my main criterion for judging music is sincerity. i don't care if you sound like death metal or like a guy dragging a tipped over ice cream truck or something in between: as long as what you're doing is making you happy, as long as you are making music that you love, then i love it too. and what better test is there for sincerity than a live demonstration?
if you watch that video, you'll see NIN performing the usual two first songs of their Fragility Tour shows, "Terrible Lie" and "Sin." and, in less than ten minutes, you'll see the energy, the love, the destruction, the emotion, the absolute fucking sincerity of Trent Reznor performing his music.
sure, he's wearing a mask of cornstarch and makeup and, whatever, the videos are not actually complete performances, instead composed of patched up clips from ten different shows, but these things don't make Trent seem any less sincere. what's really important is how much detail goes into each performance. notice every flash of lighting, perfectly matched up with a synth or drum break. notice the structure of the bandmembers on stage, like a pentagon: bassist, front left. keyboardist, back left. guitarist, front right. drummer, back right. Reznor, center stage. five musicians with the main man at the front leading the charge. beyond that, there's the obvious stuff. the whole band headbanging like they fucking mean it (take a look at 4:30-4:50, in particular... those 20 seconds practically taught me how to headbang). you don't headbang the whole song, goddamnit, you wait until that shit breaks, and you follow the dynamics closely. this is a science. then at 5:10, there's that fucking lighting again. a guy playing a theremin. strobe lights. the usual, the weird, the greatness.
but i'm not posting this just to talk about And All That Could Have Been, although that album and all of its distinct parts (CD/DVD/Still) certainly deserve their own posts. this is the Nine Inch Nails live experience. and though they are all created equal in awesomeness, they are not all the same.
it used to be a lot messier. NIN's Woodstock 1994 performances are famous because, just minutes before going on stage, the band got into a fun little mud fight backstage, making for quite the picture-perfect look onstage:
there are legends that tell of performances on the Spiral tours in 94-95, in which, sick of sitting in bloody fucking SEATS at a Nine Inch Nails show, rabid fans tore apart whole rows and sections of seats, ripping them straight out of the ground. whether those stories are true or not, there's plenty of evidence on Closure, the documentary of that tour, that the band caused enough destruction themselves to not even warrant the extra legends. check out the trailer for Closure for a peak into the madness:
a few years later, things got toned down a little bit on the Fragility tour, which i've already talked a little bit about above. Trent was still doing a shit ton of drugs, but he was destroying himself more than hotel rooms (oh, fragile Trent) and focusing his madness more on the visual experience than on anything else.
and that ended the era that i would never get to see because i was too young.
when i finally got into the band, Nine Inch Nails didn't really exist. it was 2003 or so, And All That Could Have Been was three years in the past and the last thing Trent had said was inscribed as a little message in that DVD's packaging:
- just a glimpse
- just a little reminder
- of a time and place we
- used to live in
- this dvd attempts to
- document the
- experience of
- nine inch nails live,
- as we were in the
- summer of 2000
- we filmed and recorded
- most of the dates of
- the north american
- fragility 2.0 tour
- with home video cameras
- then assembled
- mixed and edited this
- ourselves with our
- home computers
- in my eyes
- fragility 2.0
- was a summation of
- what we had
- accomplished up to
- that time so this dvd
- serves as a reminder
- of achievement
- as well as
- a departure point
- this is almost what
- it felt like being there
- trent reznor
with 2005 came new hope (sort of), when NINdom found out that Trent barely made it alive through a hefty battle with alcohol, cocaine, and heroin addiction. next came news of a new album. i said "new hope (sort of)" because when i heard the first new NIN song in 6 years--"The Hand That Feeds"--i instantly knew that the Reznor who had composed songs like "Terrible Lie," "Mr. Self Destruct," and "Somewhat Damaged" was a changed man now.
he would be clean, sharp, and productive as shit.
it took stoned Trent ten years to release 3 studio albums and 1 ep. it took sober Trent three years to release 4 studio albums. ridiculous. and though i'll agree that the quality of the music decreased, i can't say the same about the live experience. though i never truly experienced a pre-With Teeth show, i think i landed on the same heavenly cloud of musically energetic paradise that existed in those early years. though he may not be able to make music like he could back then, he can still play it like he used to.
i still remember the exact date the first time i saw NIN the first time: March 25, 2005. it was that time of year where my allergies start picking up, and when they pick up, so does my asthma. but fuck it. i was seeing motherfucking NIN in a tiny auditorium on the uc davis campus. i had moaned for this for too long. he opened with The Frail --> The Wretched. it was a dream come true. i screamed the whole night and nearly rushed the barricade when he started singing Piggy. i killed myself at that show.
the next day i was sick as shit, but it didn't matter. i could fucking die for all i cared because i had finally seen Nine Inch Nails live. i didn't die. i went to my computer and downloaded a bootleg of the show and listened to it nonstop for days, sick in bed. the song "With Teeth," in particular, with its soft, soothing, brutal refusal to let go of life, struck me so hard.
i was in love.
i proceeded to see NIN four more times that year: twice in the next month (two days in a row in San Francisco at a small venue called the Warfield, once with a bunch of friends and once by myself because none of my friends were as psycho as I was), once in November at the huge Oakland Arena, and once in December at a smaller venue in Santa Cruz.
the Oakland show was the one.
the show had originally been planned for an earlier date, about a month earlier, but the drummer at the time, Jerome Dillon, had repeatedly called in sick. Trent got pissed, got a new drummer, made a new date, and made it up to us more than we could have possibly imagined. Adam and i got to the venue before noon and we were still about 50 people back. we waited all day, hearing about how at other shows Trent had let NIN fan club members in for meet & greets and/or soundchecks. we got the latter. everyone casually walked into the venue as NIN was right there on stage, in broad daylight, like any other band, rocking out to Into the Void. and even when they were just playing for sound levels, they were having a good time. sincerity.
the actual show destroyed me and actually destroyed Adam. he hadn't eaten enough during the day and hardly enjoyed the show because he was dying. i didn't need food that night. firmly planted on the barricade, my arms, firmly planted on the band, my eyes, dazzled, firmly planted on the music, my mind. the light show, unlike any other NIN show (nay, any other show, by anyone) that i had every seen, was phenomenal. and they weren't just rehashing the same old shit over and over. i think Trent got sick of playing same old Closer, so he remixed it with a song from Pretty Hate Machine, "The Only Time." and it worked beautifully. check out the switch around 2:50.
i even got to experience that shit i saw on And All That Could Have Been, where in the middle of "Piggy," Trent hands the mic to a bunch of fans in front so they could sing. a few people around me and i caught a thrown microphone from Trent in the middle of "Suck" and belted out the lyrics like it was the last song in the universe. the light show was stellar, the whole band was feeling it, movement, movement, motion, motion, madness, madness, music music music music music music. i wanted to die (again).
and so it went.
in the summer of 2006, i saw NIN at Mountain View with my dad. another great show, and the second time a parent of mine attended a NIN show with me. (the first was in Oakland, but my mom and little brother were in the seats while i was at the barricade with Adam... not everyone likes getting to shows nine hours early.)
a year ago was the first time i took a girlfriend to a Nine Inch Nails show. i thought it would suck. for years, i had witnessed boyfriends have miserable times trying to defend their little girlfriends, half the time fighting with everyone around them instead of making love to Trent. thank god, Meryl and i got to the show ballsass early, like Adam and i in 2005, and we got barricade, once again. protecting the girl was hardly a problem.
the show itself, of course, was amazing. it got interactive again, too. to go along with the Year Zero theme, security-style cams displayed everyone at the barricade in our section on giant screens in the arena during "Survivalism." so silly, but so fun.
my favorite part of this show was the Ghosts breakdown. of all of NIN's new releases, Ghosts is the best. it's experimental and instrumental and glorious sound manipulation, which is all music is. oh, and it feels sincere. at the show, the band replicated a few songs off the album with upright bass and xylophones and all sorts of strange instruments i don't know the names of. oh yeah, and the lighting ruled, of course.
i saw Nine Inch Nails for the eighth and (supposedly) last time two nights ago. and i've concluded a few things: Trent loves music, NIN still rocks, and Trent loves music. over the course of the night he had a bunch of his friends, influences, and more come on stage to play music with him over the course of the 31-song and 2.5 hour set. they included Gary Numan, Eric Avery of Jane's Addiction, Greg Puciato from Dillinger Escape Plan, and Danny Lohner, the bassist from the Fragility tour. in the following video, Mike Garson, who was David Bowie's keyboardist back in the day and played those insane arpeggios on The Fragile for "Just Like You Imagined," made an appearance to add some piano mischief to the standard NIN repertoire.
i was stunned. and almost died (once again).
also, i'd be stunned if you actually read this whole thing. i just wanted to express how important the Nine Inch Nails live experience has been to me over the years and how, i'm sure, it will continue to be important to me for the rest of my life.
probably for a very long time, i will continue to say that a mass of people ebbing to Nine Inch Nails performing "Terrible Lie" live is probably the best possible thing that anybody can ever experience. i will compare all light shows to NIN's light shows. i will compare all bands' endurances to the endurance of a band that can rock and rock hard for well over 2 hours. every night. i will compare the dedication of other musicians' fans to the dedication of NIN fans who line up before the sun starts rising just for a barricade spot. at every show. i will compare the recording policies of other bands to NIN's policies, which strictly demand that everyone bring an HD camera and sturdy tripod to the show for the best quality possible. and, more than anything, i will compare your favorite musician's sincerity to the sincerity of Trent Reznor, who bleeds the stuff from his fucking eyes and throat.
sincerity.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
The Beatles
today Apple and EMI are releasing two box sets: The Beatles Stereo Box Set and The Beatles in Mono, two epic compilations of remastered stereo and mono recordings of the complete Beatles studio catalog. beautiful. to mark my renewed obsession (sparked by both the box sets and also by seeing the Cirque du Soleil show LOVE in Las Vegas with Adam), i'm making this little post, which falls back on a classic six stars strategy: speechlessness at sheer musical genius.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Joni Mitchell
Yes. End of story.
I recently re-discovered Blue (1971), her fourth album, after admittingly not understanding it in high school. Its forte is a classically-grounded melodic and harmonic know-how to put poetry to music. It's even bouncy at times!
So, excited about Joni as I was, I got Court and Spark (1974), her sixth album, and listened to it today. It's too interesting not to mention. Of course I can't make any sort of real judgment after just one listen (especially given an artist of her depth), but I can say for certain that it's a weird kind of musics that sounds smooth, efficient, and meaningful. "Jazz folk-rock," Wikipedia calls it.
I hear she's got other great albums. I'm not surprised. GO BUY SOME. Or pirate them, I don't give a shit. Click on her lovely face to get a list of all her releases (in a new window, or in a new tab if your browser has them).
I recently re-discovered Blue (1971), her fourth album, after admittingly not understanding it in high school. Its forte is a classically-grounded melodic and harmonic know-how to put poetry to music. It's even bouncy at times!
So, excited about Joni as I was, I got Court and Spark (1974), her sixth album, and listened to it today. It's too interesting not to mention. Of course I can't make any sort of real judgment after just one listen (especially given an artist of her depth), but I can say for certain that it's a weird kind of musics that sounds smooth, efficient, and meaningful. "Jazz folk-rock," Wikipedia calls it.
I hear she's got other great albums. I'm not surprised. GO BUY SOME. Or pirate them, I don't give a shit. Click on her lovely face to get a list of all her releases (in a new window, or in a new tab if your browser has them).
Sunday, August 23, 2009
It Was a Good Day - Ice Cube (1992)
last night, after watching an epic triple feature with Mark (Kill Bill, Vol. 1 -- The Holy Mountain -- Kill Bill, Vol. 2), i was driving home exceedingly high around 5am. earlier in the day, i had taken my ipod out of the car because it was dead and had also somehow managed to remove all the music from my iphone. so i was left to choose between Adam's 2008 summer mix and the radio. i had been listening to the mix earlier in the day, so i switched over to the radio, trying to pick up whatever i could. what could i pick up?
that's right. WILD NINETY FOUR NINE, THE BAY AREA'S PARTY STATION. anyway, whatever they were playing pleased me enough for the short car ride home, so i left it. when that song ended, though, "It Was a Good Day" came on. and it kicked my ass to the curb. i know i've heard this song a couple times back in the day, but it must've floated out of my memory at some point. well, it came back and it came back so good.
rapping over a 1977 slow jam called "Footsteps in the Dark" by The Isley Brothers, Ice Cube only needs 4 minutes and 20 seconds to make you feel as good as he does. except he doesn't make the same mistake of interrupting the jam to coo high-pitched love lines... he just lets it play right on through until the end of the song.
and by the end of the song, your ears will be begging for the beat to be brought back.
in the meantime, Ice Cube lets you know how he feels: pretty goddamn good. for solid reasons too: mama made a good breakfast, cops didn't give a shit that he ran a red light, he fucked a girl he's had an eye on since high school, he's stoned, he's drunk (didn't puke though), and, to top it all off:
"today i didn't even have to use my AK.
i gotta say it was a good day."
who the fuck rhymes "AK" with "good day?" a man who feels good, that's who. take me there, man.
watch.
that's right. WILD NINETY FOUR NINE, THE BAY AREA'S PARTY STATION. anyway, whatever they were playing pleased me enough for the short car ride home, so i left it. when that song ended, though, "It Was a Good Day" came on. and it kicked my ass to the curb. i know i've heard this song a couple times back in the day, but it must've floated out of my memory at some point. well, it came back and it came back so good.
rapping over a 1977 slow jam called "Footsteps in the Dark" by The Isley Brothers, Ice Cube only needs 4 minutes and 20 seconds to make you feel as good as he does. except he doesn't make the same mistake of interrupting the jam to coo high-pitched love lines... he just lets it play right on through until the end of the song.
and by the end of the song, your ears will be begging for the beat to be brought back.
in the meantime, Ice Cube lets you know how he feels: pretty goddamn good. for solid reasons too: mama made a good breakfast, cops didn't give a shit that he ran a red light, he fucked a girl he's had an eye on since high school, he's stoned, he's drunk (didn't puke though), and, to top it all off:
"today i didn't even have to use my AK.
i gotta say it was a good day."
who the fuck rhymes "AK" with "good day?" a man who feels good, that's who. take me there, man.
watch.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
This Magic Moment - The Drifters (1960)
"this magic moment."
when Ben E. King rips out that first line of the song, i can't tell if he's talking about love or music. i guess it doesn't really matter.
this entirety of this song i get chills, as the Drifters belt out beautiful lyrics over swirling strings in the background, supported by a basic rhythm from the kit. i say i can't tell whether King is singing about love or the very music he's making, because i feel towards this song the way somebody might feel towards a loved one.
it's so different, so new. sounds i've never heard before, and they're hitting my ears right now. every instrument, pouring wine so sweet, intoxicating me, embracing me in a warm insulation that i feel can never end, forever until the end of time...
and, of course, like any beautiful song, its perfection is unexplainable. it's all magic.
here are the lyrics in full:
this magic moment
so different and so new
was like any other
until i kissed you
and then it happened
it took me by surprise
i knew that you felt it too
by the look in your eyes
sweeter than wine
softer than the summer night
everything i want i have
whenever i hold you tight
this magic moment
while your lips are close to mine
will last forever
forever til the end of time
magic magic magic magic
i music love.
listen.
when Ben E. King rips out that first line of the song, i can't tell if he's talking about love or music. i guess it doesn't really matter.
this entirety of this song i get chills, as the Drifters belt out beautiful lyrics over swirling strings in the background, supported by a basic rhythm from the kit. i say i can't tell whether King is singing about love or the very music he's making, because i feel towards this song the way somebody might feel towards a loved one.
it's so different, so new. sounds i've never heard before, and they're hitting my ears right now. every instrument, pouring wine so sweet, intoxicating me, embracing me in a warm insulation that i feel can never end, forever until the end of time...
and, of course, like any beautiful song, its perfection is unexplainable. it's all magic.
here are the lyrics in full:
this magic moment
so different and so new
was like any other
until i kissed you
and then it happened
it took me by surprise
i knew that you felt it too
by the look in your eyes
sweeter than wine
softer than the summer night
everything i want i have
whenever i hold you tight
this magic moment
while your lips are close to mine
will last forever
forever til the end of time
magic magic magic magic
i music love.
listen.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Four Organs - Steve Reich (1970)
it starts with an innocent maracas player, alone in his robotic, unaccented shaking for almost four seconds. but, even though the shaking continues nonstop and steady for the rest of the fifteen minute song, the shaking is never left alone again for longer than a moment.
that's because at 0:04, the organs come in. four organs, to be exact. and when they do, you know it's Steve Reich minimalism at its finest.
i don't know anything about music, so i'll let Wikipedia describe exactly what happens in this song from start to finish: "the four organs, harmonically expound a dominant eleventh chord (D-E-F#-G#-A-B with an E in the bass), dissecting the chord by playing parts of it sequentially while the chord slowly increases in duration from a single 1/8 note at the beginning to 200 beats at the end."
now, to make this a little more visual, Reich's vision for the piece (as given at the premiere): "I had the idea that if a group of tones were all pulsing together in a repeating chord...one tone at a time could gradually get longer and longer.... The tones would simply begin in unison...and then gradually extend out like a sort of horizontal bar graph."
playing on organs popular in rock & roll at the time (think The Doors), the organists play longer and longer, more and more sustained tones, building on top of each other the entirety of the song. one chord. one chord the whole time. one chord over and over and over again. one chord, in the beginning, just an eighth note. then a quarter note, half note, whole note. one chord played for minutes at a time, by the end of the piece. with the omnipresent shaking as a foundation, they construct an upside down pyramid, working their way to textures so thickly layered that at one of the early performances, they nearly drove a poor old lady to insanity.
allmusic describes the first couple performances of the piece in 1971, when "Imagine," "My Sweet Lord," "Maggie May," and "Brown Sugar" were the world's biggest hit singles:
as Meryl expressed last night, by comparing this reaction to that of Edouard Manet's Olympia, which also sparked controversy when it was shown in 1863, it seems that there's something to pieces of art that make people want to tear it to shreds. she said, "if your art upset a lot of people, you're probably doing something right." i think that's exactly what happened here.
one chord, two words, three syllables, four organs, five musicians, six stars.
listen.
that's because at 0:04, the organs come in. four organs, to be exact. and when they do, you know it's Steve Reich minimalism at its finest.
i don't know anything about music, so i'll let Wikipedia describe exactly what happens in this song from start to finish: "the four organs, harmonically expound a dominant eleventh chord (D-E-F#-G#-A-B with an E in the bass), dissecting the chord by playing parts of it sequentially while the chord slowly increases in duration from a single 1/8 note at the beginning to 200 beats at the end."
now, to make this a little more visual, Reich's vision for the piece (as given at the premiere): "I had the idea that if a group of tones were all pulsing together in a repeating chord...one tone at a time could gradually get longer and longer.... The tones would simply begin in unison...and then gradually extend out like a sort of horizontal bar graph."
playing on organs popular in rock & roll at the time (think The Doors), the organists play longer and longer, more and more sustained tones, building on top of each other the entirety of the song. one chord. one chord the whole time. one chord over and over and over again. one chord, in the beginning, just an eighth note. then a quarter note, half note, whole note. one chord played for minutes at a time, by the end of the piece. with the omnipresent shaking as a foundation, they construct an upside down pyramid, working their way to textures so thickly layered that at one of the early performances, they nearly drove a poor old lady to insanity.
allmusic describes the first couple performances of the piece in 1971, when "Imagine," "My Sweet Lord," "Maggie May," and "Brown Sugar" were the world's biggest hit singles:
In 1970, Reich received a phone call from the conductor Michael Tilson Thomas asking for some new orchestral repertory, and he jokingly responded, 'Of course, my new piece Four Organs." To his great surprise, Tilson Thomas agreed to Reich's suggestion. While it was anything but symphonic, Four Organs was performed by the Boston Symphony in Boston's Symphony Hall in October, 1971, along with works by Mozart, Liszt and Bartok. The stoic New England audience took the work in stride, but a more volatile New York audience was less approving when it came to Carnegie Hall in 1973. Shouts, boos, cheers, threats and counter-threats by patrons broke out during the performance, and one elderly lady even banged her shoe on the edge of the stage in an attempt to stop the music. The New York Times critic Harold Schonberg reported that "the audience behaved as though red-hot needles were being inserted under fingernails." Nevertheless, Reich soon became a hot commodity and his reputation took off soon after the notorious concert.
as Meryl expressed last night, by comparing this reaction to that of Edouard Manet's Olympia, which also sparked controversy when it was shown in 1863, it seems that there's something to pieces of art that make people want to tear it to shreds. she said, "if your art upset a lot of people, you're probably doing something right." i think that's exactly what happened here.
one chord, two words, three syllables, four organs, five musicians, six stars.
listen.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Blue Monday - New Order (1983)
Xanthe and i were shocked today when we found out that our friend Donni didn't know what a subwoofer was. i tried punching her (on beat) to explain. when that didn't work, i played this song.
the biggest selling 12" single of all time, "Blue Monday" is the best New Order song and it's one of my favorite dance songs ever.
when i listen to it on headphones, as i am right now, it's a comfortable living room experience. i'm just sitting here, turning up the volume an increment or two every half minute, bobbing my head with that standard house beat (with the occasional machine gun twitter), letting the guitar sidewind down my face, hearing monks proclaim their love for divinity and listening to divinity (in the form of synthesized strings) puke its love for monks.
then the vocals come on. then its 5 more minutes of dance rock power pop new waves. wonderful.
then there are the times the song is blasting out of speakers. maybe i'll just play extremely loudly in my own room, like i did for Xanthe and Donni this morning, or a dj will throw it on at a club. this happened pretty much every night i went out in Athens, and pretty much every time it happened, i let go of everything to get up and dance. and if i was already "dancing," i dropped the act and actually started dancing (because you're only dancing when you ignore yourself and submit yourself to the air swirling air around you.)
everything is perfect in this song.
the bass drum is perfect.
the synths are perfect.
the bass is perfect.
the hi-hat is perfect.
the snare is perfect.
the guitar is perfect.
the synthesized string section is perfect.
the singing is perfect
the synthesized horn section is perfect.
EVERYTHING IS PERFECT.
listen.
the biggest selling 12" single of all time, "Blue Monday" is the best New Order song and it's one of my favorite dance songs ever.
when i listen to it on headphones, as i am right now, it's a comfortable living room experience. i'm just sitting here, turning up the volume an increment or two every half minute, bobbing my head with that standard house beat (with the occasional machine gun twitter), letting the guitar sidewind down my face, hearing monks proclaim their love for divinity and listening to divinity (in the form of synthesized strings) puke its love for monks.
then the vocals come on. then its 5 more minutes of dance rock power pop new waves. wonderful.
then there are the times the song is blasting out of speakers. maybe i'll just play extremely loudly in my own room, like i did for Xanthe and Donni this morning, or a dj will throw it on at a club. this happened pretty much every night i went out in Athens, and pretty much every time it happened, i let go of everything to get up and dance. and if i was already "dancing," i dropped the act and actually started dancing (because you're only dancing when you ignore yourself and submit yourself to the air swirling air around you.)
everything is perfect in this song.
the bass drum is perfect.
the synths are perfect.
the bass is perfect.
the hi-hat is perfect.
the snare is perfect.
the guitar is perfect.
the synthesized string section is perfect.
the singing is perfect
the synthesized horn section is perfect.
EVERYTHING IS PERFECT.
listen.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Patty Waters
Patty Waters is a mysterious jazz singer who made two recordings in 1966 for the obscure free-jazz label ESP-Disk. One of these albums was called Sings. The cover:
The first half is fourteen minutes worth of seven songs, for solo meandering/wandering piano and searching/lost female voice, with titles like "Moon, Don't Come Up Tonight" (because her man isn't coming), "Why Can't I Come to You?" (because he doesn't want her), and "I Can't Forget You" (with key lyrics, 'Since you don't want me / It makes me want you all the more'). Blunt.
The second half is fourteen minutes worth of a freaky horror-jazz take on the traditional folk song "Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair," in which the word "black" is repeated almost ad nauseam in every vocal style known to Ms. Waters, from manly growl to high-frequency shrill to Damo Suzuki/Eye/Yoko Ono-begetting noise-making.
For reference, here is the cover of her other album, College Tour:
I bought this and now I'm sharing it! So you have no excuse not listen to it: the musics
The first half is fourteen minutes worth of seven songs, for solo meandering/wandering piano and searching/lost female voice, with titles like "Moon, Don't Come Up Tonight" (because her man isn't coming), "Why Can't I Come to You?" (because he doesn't want her), and "I Can't Forget You" (with key lyrics, 'Since you don't want me / It makes me want you all the more'). Blunt.
The second half is fourteen minutes worth of a freaky horror-jazz take on the traditional folk song "Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair," in which the word "black" is repeated almost ad nauseam in every vocal style known to Ms. Waters, from manly growl to high-frequency shrill to Damo Suzuki/Eye/Yoko Ono-begetting noise-making.
For reference, here is the cover of her other album, College Tour:
I bought this and now I'm sharing it! So you have no excuse not listen to it: the musics
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Lily Allen
Lily Allen is serious paprazzi material (in the UK). She's popular because she's young, hot, and she sings about daily things such as boyfriends, fucking, and drugs, and because the music is slick pop with big electro beats. She made it big in 2006 thanks to MySpace, released an album and some singles, one of which, Smile, I think even US kids know, and in 2008 recorded her second album, It's Not Me, It's You, released just this February, 2009.
Anyways, I have this album, and here is what I think:
4.5 stars: 50 years from now, 4.0, but for its daring approach to pop and ridiculous popularity, a strong 4.5, resting largely on her voice and on her lyrics, the former so silky you think she was born singing like this, the latter direct and natural, a good quality in music this poppy. Play it very loudly so you hear all the nuances.
Lily Allen: smarter and more talented beyond either her popularity or her typical fans.
Anyways, I have this album, and here is what I think:
4.5 stars: 50 years from now, 4.0, but for its daring approach to pop and ridiculous popularity, a strong 4.5, resting largely on her voice and on her lyrics, the former so silky you think she was born singing like this, the latter direct and natural, a good quality in music this poppy. Play it very loudly so you hear all the nuances.
Lily Allen: smarter and more talented beyond either her popularity or her typical fans.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
How I Fell in Love (with Belle & Sebastian)
Let me qualify: this is actually how I fell in love with Dear Catastrophe Waitress. And let me be blunt: I was stoned.
Now let me clarify my bluntness: this album, along with If You're Feeling Sinister, had sat in my library for ages, largely un-listened. Pot was the impetus necessary to lose any pre-conceptions about bands and albums and what I have or haven't listened to yet, so that I could, among other things, put on some headphones and get lost in a maze of shuffled music. And it doesn't surprise me at all in retrospect, that as with any relaxed, bias-free and intimate listen, I discovered truths previously invisible. And thus, my entry into the world of these lovely Scots.
The sound is gentle. It's the soundtrack to the lives of lonely high school boys and girls who, instead of becoming angsty, rebellious, or destructive, continue to believe that life can be beautiful, lovely, and maybe even lively. Where both groups embrace the all-too-important fact that life's (often) a bitch, one throws a finger in everyone's face and the other hangs on to who-the-fuck-knows-what. Hope, probably.
The music's romanticism is sharp, and so, as Chopin's was grounded in "harmony, counterpoint, and fugue," so is Belle & Sebastian's grounded in reality and in the honest belief that life can be beautiful. As such, the album becomes wistful, blurring the line between being pensive and being content. Its joie de vivre means when it's happy, it's exuberant. Its romanticism means when it's sad, it's either nostalgic or just selflessly hopeful, roaming along in a haze of comfortable familiarity (which is always changing).
Rarely does music, lyrics, and statement (otherwise known as swagger in bands like Bad Company) come together so well on an album as they do on this one. And I ask you, how can anyone so me-against-the-world love the world so much? Key theme: books.
By the way, the musicianship is astounding; tight, lyrical, and professional. Thus, a song like Asleep on a Sunbeam still wins, and when those horns drop in you'd think the album had peaked.
Now let me clarify my bluntness: this album, along with If You're Feeling Sinister, had sat in my library for ages, largely un-listened. Pot was the impetus necessary to lose any pre-conceptions about bands and albums and what I have or haven't listened to yet, so that I could, among other things, put on some headphones and get lost in a maze of shuffled music. And it doesn't surprise me at all in retrospect, that as with any relaxed, bias-free and intimate listen, I discovered truths previously invisible. And thus, my entry into the world of these lovely Scots.
The sound is gentle. It's the soundtrack to the lives of lonely high school boys and girls who, instead of becoming angsty, rebellious, or destructive, continue to believe that life can be beautiful, lovely, and maybe even lively. Where both groups embrace the all-too-important fact that life's (often) a bitch, one throws a finger in everyone's face and the other hangs on to who-the-fuck-knows-what. Hope, probably.
The music's romanticism is sharp, and so, as Chopin's was grounded in "harmony, counterpoint, and fugue," so is Belle & Sebastian's grounded in reality and in the honest belief that life can be beautiful. As such, the album becomes wistful, blurring the line between being pensive and being content. Its joie de vivre means when it's happy, it's exuberant. Its romanticism means when it's sad, it's either nostalgic or just selflessly hopeful, roaming along in a haze of comfortable familiarity (which is always changing).
Rarely does music, lyrics, and statement (otherwise known as swagger in bands like Bad Company) come together so well on an album as they do on this one. And I ask you, how can anyone so me-against-the-world love the world so much? Key theme: books.
By the way, the musicianship is astounding; tight, lyrical, and professional. Thus, a song like Asleep on a Sunbeam still wins, and when those horns drop in you'd think the album had peaked.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Carmina Burana - Carl Orff (1937)
if you think the obsession in music with "fucking bitches" started with gangsta rap, then please take a seat.
that's a page from a 12th century text called Carmina Burana, or "Songs from Benediktbeurn," written entirely in Medieval Latin. created by a couple clergy students, the manuscripts concerns itself with themes of the fickleness of fortune and wealth, the ephemeral nature of life, the joy of the return of Spring, and the pleasures and perils of drinking, gluttony, gambling, and, of course, lust. if the drawing above doesn't demonstrate how loopy in love with decadence and sex were the minds of these kids, then give me a moment.
give me 800 years.
in 1937 Germany, the Frankfurt Opera premiered a piece composed by Carl Orff called Carmina Burana, a "scenic cantata" that used various parts of the original medieval text as its libretto. Orff's full Latin title was Carmina Burana: Cantiones profanae cantoribus et choris cantandae comitantibus instrumentis atque imaginibus magicis, or "Songs of Beurn: Secular songs for singers and choruses to be sung together with instruments and magic images."
i don't know about the premiere, but the first time time i saw a performance of Carmina Burana, all the magic images were in my head. the melodies are so catchy, it hurts. the instrumentation is glittery, the rhythms are like running through a meadow. angels and demons fly out of the soloists' throats. most importantly, this is without a doubt one of the most epic collections of music ever created. and it's raunchy, too.
the best example i'll give are the lyrics from the "Tempus est iocundum." i won't say it explicitly, but the chorus appears to be quite the ejection of excitement...
then the next song, "Dulcissime," which consists of two lines of lyrics:
wow. absolute orgasm. and it's not just the words. from the rapid, haphazard choral excitement of the piece right before, this is just one female vocalist moaning for 34 seconds.
you already know the most famous piece from this work, "O Fortuna." it's that incredibly epic song reminiscent of horses charging, planets crashing, slow-motion, and unstoppable glory in all its forms. check out these lyrics though:
these are the words that Orff's masterpiece starts AND ends with. essentially, even though much of the cantata has lyrics about love and drinking and growing and youthfulness and growing old and everything else you can think of, the composer realizes and makes you realize that all that is simply life. and it can be summed up with a fearful, epic, monolithic, tumbling, black, monstrous ode to Fortune and her fateful wheel that spins us around. and so, in an effort to replicate life, Orff ends Carmina Burana the way it starts.
birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death.
"Life ain't nothin' but bitches and money." -- Ice Cube, from "Gangsta Gangsta" on N.W.A's Straight Outta Compton.
download or watch.
that's a page from a 12th century text called Carmina Burana, or "Songs from Benediktbeurn," written entirely in Medieval Latin. created by a couple clergy students, the manuscripts concerns itself with themes of the fickleness of fortune and wealth, the ephemeral nature of life, the joy of the return of Spring, and the pleasures and perils of drinking, gluttony, gambling, and, of course, lust. if the drawing above doesn't demonstrate how loopy in love with decadence and sex were the minds of these kids, then give me a moment.
give me 800 years.
in 1937 Germany, the Frankfurt Opera premiered a piece composed by Carl Orff called Carmina Burana, a "scenic cantata" that used various parts of the original medieval text as its libretto. Orff's full Latin title was Carmina Burana: Cantiones profanae cantoribus et choris cantandae comitantibus instrumentis atque imaginibus magicis, or "Songs of Beurn: Secular songs for singers and choruses to be sung together with instruments and magic images."
i don't know about the premiere, but the first time time i saw a performance of Carmina Burana, all the magic images were in my head. the melodies are so catchy, it hurts. the instrumentation is glittery, the rhythms are like running through a meadow. angels and demons fly out of the soloists' throats. most importantly, this is without a doubt one of the most epic collections of music ever created. and it's raunchy, too.
the best example i'll give are the lyrics from the "Tempus est iocundum." i won't say it explicitly, but the chorus appears to be quite the ejection of excitement...
| Tempus es iocundum, | This is the joyful time, |
| o virgines, | O maidens, |
| modo congaudete | rejoice with them, |
| vos iuvenes. | young men! |
| (Baritone) | |
| Oh, oh, oh, | Oh! Oh! Oh! |
| totus floreo, | I am bursting out all over! |
| iam amore virginali | I am burning all over with first love! |
| totus ardeo, novus, novus amor est, quo pereo. | New, new love is what I am dying of! |
| (Women) | |
| Mea me confortat | I am heartened |
| promissio, | by my promise, |
| mea me deportat | I am downcast by my refusal |
| (Soprano and boys) | |
| Oh, oh, oh | Oh! Oh! Oh! |
| totus floreo | I am bursting out all over! |
| iam amore virginali | I am burning all over with first love! |
| totus ardeo, novus, novus amor est, quo pereo. | New, new love is what I am dying of! |
| (Men) | |
| Tempore brumali | In the winter |
| vir patiens, | man is patient, |
| animo vernali | the breath of spring |
| lasciviens. | makes him lust. |
| (Baritone) | |
| Oh, oh, oh, | Oh! Oh! Oh! |
| totus floreo, | I am bursting out all over! |
| iam amore virginali | I am burning all over with first love! |
| totus ardeo, novus, novus amor est, quo pereo. | New, new love is what I am dying of! |
| (Women) | |
| Mea mecum ludit | My virginity |
| virginitas, | makes me frisky, |
| mea me detrudit | my simplicity |
| simplicitas. | holds me back. |
| (Soprano and Boys) | |
| Oh, oh, oh, | Oh! Oh! Oh! |
| totus floreo, | I am bursting out all over! |
| iam amore virginali | I am burning all over with first love! |
| totus ardeo, novus, novus amor est, quo pereo. | New, new love is what I am dying of! |
| (Chorus) | |
| Veni, domicella, | Come, my mistress, |
| cum gaudio, | with joy, |
| veni, veni, pulchra, | come, come, my pretty, |
| iam pereo. | I am dying! |
| (Baritone, Boys and Chorus) | |
| Oh, oh, oh, | Oh! Oh! Oh! |
| totus floreo, | I am bursting out all over! |
| iam amore virginali | I am burning all over with first love! |
| totus ardeo, novus, novus amor est, quo pereo. | New, new love is what I am dying of! |
then the next song, "Dulcissime," which consists of two lines of lyrics:
| Dulcissime, | Sweetest one! Ah! |
| totam tibi subdo me! | I give myself to you totally! |
wow. absolute orgasm. and it's not just the words. from the rapid, haphazard choral excitement of the piece right before, this is just one female vocalist moaning for 34 seconds.
you already know the most famous piece from this work, "O Fortuna." it's that incredibly epic song reminiscent of horses charging, planets crashing, slow-motion, and unstoppable glory in all its forms. check out these lyrics though:
| O Fortuna | O Fortune, |
| velut luna | like the moon |
| statu variabilis, | you are changeable, |
| semper crescis | ever waxing |
| aut decrescis; | and waning; |
| vita detestabilis | hateful life |
| nunc obdurat | first oppresses |
| et tunc curat | and then soothes |
| ludo mentis aciem, | as fancy takes it; |
| egestatem, | poverty |
| potestatem | and power |
| dissolvit ut glaciem. | it melts them like ice. |
| Sors immanis | Fate - monstrous |
| et inanis, | and empty, |
| rota tu volubilis, | you whirling wheel, |
| status malus, | you are malevolent, |
| vana salus | well-being is vain |
| semper dissolubilis, | and always fades to nothing, |
| obumbrata | shadowed |
| et velata | and veiled |
| michi quoque niteris; | you plague me too; |
| nunc per ludum | now through the game |
| dorsum nudum | I bring my bare back |
| fero tui sceleris. | to your villainy. |
| Sors salutis | Fate is against me |
| et virtutis | in health |
| michi nunc contraria, | and virtue, |
| est affectus | driven on |
| et defectus | and weighted down, |
| semper in angaria. | always enslaved. |
| Hac in hora | So at this hour |
| sine mora | without delay |
| corde pulsum tangite; | pluck the vibrating strings; |
| quod per sortem | since Fate |
| sternit fortem, | strikes down the strong man, |
| mecum omnes plangite! | everyone weep with me! |
these are the words that Orff's masterpiece starts AND ends with. essentially, even though much of the cantata has lyrics about love and drinking and growing and youthfulness and growing old and everything else you can think of, the composer realizes and makes you realize that all that is simply life. and it can be summed up with a fearful, epic, monolithic, tumbling, black, monstrous ode to Fortune and her fateful wheel that spins us around. and so, in an effort to replicate life, Orff ends Carmina Burana the way it starts.
birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death birth youth bloom love sex death.
"Life ain't nothin' but bitches and money." -- Ice Cube, from "Gangsta Gangsta" on N.W.A's Straight Outta Compton.
download or watch.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Spacemen 3 - Taking Drugs to Make Music To Take Drugs To (original release: 1990)
This album makes me feel good.
Enough rock.
Enough feedback.
Hard enough.
Soft enough.
Slow enough.
Long enough.
Monolithic drums.
Dry feedback from the same riff over and over.
Spaced out, drowning vocals.
And textures.
I constantly find myself turning to this album especially when I can't listen to anything else.
In a way, I guess you can call this one of my comfort albums; an album you can turn to any time and feel fine.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Help - Thee Oh Sees (2009)
okay. i admit it. i'm obsessed with this album, not just the album art:
originally, i simply wrote, "another quick, short post. what i imagine when i think about good and fun psychedelic rock: a purple smiling bat that can magically make rainbow arcs squiggle."
i tried to reduce my love for this album to its album art. let me try again: in less than a month, this has become one of my favorite albums of the year.
it's grungy. it's one of the dirtiest albums i've listened to in a long time. the drums are simple, but they provide a perfect backbone to the swampy, distorted humming of the guitar. i can't tell if the vocals have tons of effects put on them, or this guy just sings like a maniac, but i'm at last sure the reverb is out of control. it's like he's singing for a football stadium inside a garage. which brings me to my next point.
it's psychedelic. this guy sings like a retarded angel shaman, or something. i don't know how else to describe it. his voice is high-pitched and harmonious and wonderful, but it's also kind of whiny and just plain weird. beyond the vocals, this will FEEL just like good old rock & roll, nothing psychedelic at all. and yet, there is something in the sound that i think you will find makes it teem with rainbow sparkles and talking purple bats coming out of walls.
it's fun. all i want to do when i listen to this record is get off my goddamn chair and jump around. it's not particularly danceable, it's not what you'd call headbanging music, but i can't stop myself from dancing and headbanging to it.
ambiguous descriptions of a few tracks (which can all be listened to fully and freely here):
electric guitar and bass guitar wind, wind, wind, wind in the first three seconds and then, suddenly, the album blasts off with "Enemy Destruct." drums splashing, maybe some tambourine, and the singing comes in, trippy, like we just got dropped off on the peak of an acid trip.
the second song, "Ruby Go Home," is my favorite on the album, but i don't know why. it starts off relatively simply, with some basic guitar riff, basic drum thrashing, etc etc. the verse involves all sorts of nonsense and the phrase "ruby go home!" the chorus involves a bunch of oh!s and "ruby go home!" the bridge involves repetition of "ruby go home!" there's nothing inherently special about this song. but the band sinks into this moment, this glowing red moment, and they just feel it. they sit there and rock and rock and rock. the moment doesn't end. the guitarist starts fucking around a little bit, nothing fancy, nothing to suck us out of the moment, nothing extraordinary, just more rocking out. and it's catchy, too.
what the hell is that sound at the beginning of "Meat Step Lively?" i have no fucking clue, but it sounds like a baby guitar crying. more rocking out, more living in the moment. except halfway through this one, a wind instrument comes out of nowhere. somebody's blowing on a flute or something, transforming what just sounded like acid-tripped-out Kinks into the pop version of King Crimson or something.
the sixth track, "Can You See," definitely reminds me of something i've heard before. the way it swings back and forth like a pendulum. no, more like a crowd at a show. it's like swaying, not swinging. the bass does it. do do do.......do...do do do......do... and so on.
unfortunately, (for me) the album sort of tapers off towards the middle after an explosive first half, barring one song:
"Destroyed Fortress Reappears" is my second favorite song on the album. this is where the vocal reverbs go nuts. for five minutes he just chants like a high priest over this snare drum march and simple bass/guitar strumming, highlighted with this awfully catchy hook every so often.
i'll admit. the first time i listened to this record i was baked out of mind. i was sitting on a couch in my friend's apartment in the mission, facing one of two tower speakers bellowing out the cool tunes. i really couldn't speak, but i periodically checked with other people to make sure they thought the music we were listening to was as good as i kept thinking. i think i downloaded it the next day.
then a few weeks later, a couple days ago, i went to a bar to see them live for $7. seven bucks! well, not counting beers. but the show was outstanding. short, maybe. but they've only got two albums and each one is full of 1-3min tracks. i expected people to enjoy the show but not rock the fuck out like they did. we were practically moshing. they played "Ruby Go Home" thank god. and i'm pretty damn sure they played it twice as long, illustrating my point that the band has found an inescapably savory moment in that song.
this is good fucking rock & roll, plain and simple.
listen to whole thing here.
originally, i simply wrote, "another quick, short post. what i imagine when i think about good and fun psychedelic rock: a purple smiling bat that can magically make rainbow arcs squiggle."
i tried to reduce my love for this album to its album art. let me try again: in less than a month, this has become one of my favorite albums of the year.
it's grungy. it's one of the dirtiest albums i've listened to in a long time. the drums are simple, but they provide a perfect backbone to the swampy, distorted humming of the guitar. i can't tell if the vocals have tons of effects put on them, or this guy just sings like a maniac, but i'm at last sure the reverb is out of control. it's like he's singing for a football stadium inside a garage. which brings me to my next point.
it's psychedelic. this guy sings like a retarded angel shaman, or something. i don't know how else to describe it. his voice is high-pitched and harmonious and wonderful, but it's also kind of whiny and just plain weird. beyond the vocals, this will FEEL just like good old rock & roll, nothing psychedelic at all. and yet, there is something in the sound that i think you will find makes it teem with rainbow sparkles and talking purple bats coming out of walls.
it's fun. all i want to do when i listen to this record is get off my goddamn chair and jump around. it's not particularly danceable, it's not what you'd call headbanging music, but i can't stop myself from dancing and headbanging to it.
ambiguous descriptions of a few tracks (which can all be listened to fully and freely here):
electric guitar and bass guitar wind, wind, wind, wind in the first three seconds and then, suddenly, the album blasts off with "Enemy Destruct." drums splashing, maybe some tambourine, and the singing comes in, trippy, like we just got dropped off on the peak of an acid trip.
the second song, "Ruby Go Home," is my favorite on the album, but i don't know why. it starts off relatively simply, with some basic guitar riff, basic drum thrashing, etc etc. the verse involves all sorts of nonsense and the phrase "ruby go home!" the chorus involves a bunch of oh!s and "ruby go home!" the bridge involves repetition of "ruby go home!" there's nothing inherently special about this song. but the band sinks into this moment, this glowing red moment, and they just feel it. they sit there and rock and rock and rock. the moment doesn't end. the guitarist starts fucking around a little bit, nothing fancy, nothing to suck us out of the moment, nothing extraordinary, just more rocking out. and it's catchy, too.
what the hell is that sound at the beginning of "Meat Step Lively?" i have no fucking clue, but it sounds like a baby guitar crying. more rocking out, more living in the moment. except halfway through this one, a wind instrument comes out of nowhere. somebody's blowing on a flute or something, transforming what just sounded like acid-tripped-out Kinks into the pop version of King Crimson or something.
the sixth track, "Can You See," definitely reminds me of something i've heard before. the way it swings back and forth like a pendulum. no, more like a crowd at a show. it's like swaying, not swinging. the bass does it. do do do.......do...do do do......do... and so on.
unfortunately, (for me) the album sort of tapers off towards the middle after an explosive first half, barring one song:
"Destroyed Fortress Reappears" is my second favorite song on the album. this is where the vocal reverbs go nuts. for five minutes he just chants like a high priest over this snare drum march and simple bass/guitar strumming, highlighted with this awfully catchy hook every so often.
i'll admit. the first time i listened to this record i was baked out of mind. i was sitting on a couch in my friend's apartment in the mission, facing one of two tower speakers bellowing out the cool tunes. i really couldn't speak, but i periodically checked with other people to make sure they thought the music we were listening to was as good as i kept thinking. i think i downloaded it the next day.
then a few weeks later, a couple days ago, i went to a bar to see them live for $7. seven bucks! well, not counting beers. but the show was outstanding. short, maybe. but they've only got two albums and each one is full of 1-3min tracks. i expected people to enjoy the show but not rock the fuck out like they did. we were practically moshing. they played "Ruby Go Home" thank god. and i'm pretty damn sure they played it twice as long, illustrating my point that the band has found an inescapably savory moment in that song.
this is good fucking rock & roll, plain and simple.
listen to whole thing here.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Fishmans-Long Season
Last night, i went to a farwell party put on for me, by my music club I am a part of over here in Japan. My good friend who is in the club who speaks very decent english, gave me this cd as a thank you/goodbye present. As she gave it to me, she mentioned that the members of the band used to go to our college, and were a part of the same circle we were all in. I also recieved another cd by a more current group that had recently graduated.
Anyways, this cd is excellent from the first listen. even though I hate it I will go for it: if Can made a band Air, had a japanese girl singer at times, and were super mellow and driving. Its a stretch I know, and rather pointless, but go for that idea, maybe. This mini-lp, as its called, is one 35.2 minute track split up into five parts, but never truly stops. Its got great mellow but moving basslines, upbeat up simple drumming, athmospheric singing at times, sweepingly simple accordians, and tactfull guitars. There are also some bells and pianos in there. and some quiet spoken words. The layers pile up at times, but its great. A guitar part that is minmally used in part one is brought to the front more, in part 5, and a little in almost every part actually. besides that, its a fun ride. long delays on the vocals, and lost of echo on everything. this album will fill the entire room. its got that warm feeling to it.
i'd recommend listening to it at night in the car. or on the cpu while working or surfing the inetrnet. but then again, thats how I listen to all of my music, so who knows when you will like it best. I feel as if the album could be twice as long and just as interesting, but thats just me. I love the cover of the album, and that they dont look so serious, and that they are in the woods.
music love from a friend in japan. please enjoy.
http://www.mediafire.com/?wdj30mynemw
Anyways, this cd is excellent from the first listen. even though I hate it I will go for it: if Can made a band Air, had a japanese girl singer at times, and were super mellow and driving. Its a stretch I know, and rather pointless, but go for that idea, maybe. This mini-lp, as its called, is one 35.2 minute track split up into five parts, but never truly stops. Its got great mellow but moving basslines, upbeat up simple drumming, athmospheric singing at times, sweepingly simple accordians, and tactfull guitars. There are also some bells and pianos in there. and some quiet spoken words. The layers pile up at times, but its great. A guitar part that is minmally used in part one is brought to the front more, in part 5, and a little in almost every part actually. besides that, its a fun ride. long delays on the vocals, and lost of echo on everything. this album will fill the entire room. its got that warm feeling to it.
i'd recommend listening to it at night in the car. or on the cpu while working or surfing the inetrnet. but then again, thats how I listen to all of my music, so who knows when you will like it best. I feel as if the album could be twice as long and just as interesting, but thats just me. I love the cover of the album, and that they dont look so serious, and that they are in the woods.
music love from a friend in japan. please enjoy.
http://www.mediafire.com/?wdj30mynemw
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Gangsta Gangsta - N.W.A. (1988)
"We don't Just Say No, we too busy saying YEAH." -- Ice Cube
If Ice Cube's not a role model, I don't know who the hell is.
If Ice Cube's not a role model, I don't know who the hell is.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Belle and Sebastian
its summertime here in japan. the rain has for the most part stopped. the humidity is.... well slightly less than its soup-iness of months past. and its time to listen to belle and sebastian again.
i have a love hate relationship with this band. I am sorry to admit that, but i can only listen to this band when i really feel like being a bright sun-shinny individual. other times, i just find the stuart's voice annoying and it silly pop music. i know this is truly telling you more about me than the music, but I cannot describe how good it feels to walk to school, in the warm sun, and to hear this band in my ears. I just randomly started thinking about this band on the way to school. some song of 'the life pursuit' and i hadn't listened to it in about 7 months. and it felt so fresh and new and warm and happy and oh my goodness it felt so good.
me: "i really feel like listening to the life pursuit today"
tori (smirking and with great half serious disdain):" its ALWAYS the life pursuit in my car..."
what else needs to be said. its making me dream of love and beautiful girls. for some reason this music and them are one in the same in my mind. thank you summer. thank you stuart.
i have a love hate relationship with this band. I am sorry to admit that, but i can only listen to this band when i really feel like being a bright sun-shinny individual. other times, i just find the stuart's voice annoying and it silly pop music. i know this is truly telling you more about me than the music, but I cannot describe how good it feels to walk to school, in the warm sun, and to hear this band in my ears. I just randomly started thinking about this band on the way to school. some song of 'the life pursuit' and i hadn't listened to it in about 7 months. and it felt so fresh and new and warm and happy and oh my goodness it felt so good.
me: "i really feel like listening to the life pursuit today"
tori (smirking and with great half serious disdain):" its ALWAYS the life pursuit in my car..."
what else needs to be said. its making me dream of love and beautiful girls. for some reason this music and them are one in the same in my mind. thank you summer. thank you stuart.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Stayin' Alive - Bee Gees (1977)
i know it's all about Michael Jackson right now, but here's a dance song i guarantee you haven't forgotten:
before The Field, before Daft Punk, before Michael Jackson, these guys mastered the art of repetition.
lay down a bass drum, thump it, 1. 2. 3. 4. add some hi-hat to the mix for some extra clicks. next, slurp out an irresistible bassline, sidewinding around the four-on-the-floor kicks. it's getting real dancey. then you hit the synths, caressing the keys, remembering this isn't about dominating the song, just keeping it rolling, keeping it fresh. maybe some strings here and there. finally, lay down the vocal track, smooth, funky, rocking, spiraling, spinning, dizzy, and real cool. nothing wild, just simple, to the point, sweet, and beautiful.
then the genius.
repeat. repeat. repeat. repeat. repeat. repeat. repeat. repeat.
anybody who writes a good dance song knows that the key is simplicity and repetition. listen to "Thriller." listen to "One More Time." listen to "Stayin' Alive." ah, you've heard 'em all before...
download or buy
before The Field, before Daft Punk, before Michael Jackson, these guys mastered the art of repetition.
lay down a bass drum, thump it, 1. 2. 3. 4. add some hi-hat to the mix for some extra clicks. next, slurp out an irresistible bassline, sidewinding around the four-on-the-floor kicks. it's getting real dancey. then you hit the synths, caressing the keys, remembering this isn't about dominating the song, just keeping it rolling, keeping it fresh. maybe some strings here and there. finally, lay down the vocal track, smooth, funky, rocking, spiraling, spinning, dizzy, and real cool. nothing wild, just simple, to the point, sweet, and beautiful.
then the genius.
repeat. repeat. repeat. repeat. repeat. repeat. repeat. repeat.
anybody who writes a good dance song knows that the key is simplicity and repetition. listen to "Thriller." listen to "One More Time." listen to "Stayin' Alive." ah, you've heard 'em all before...
download or buy
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Merriweather Post Pavilion Art
I am in love with color, and lots of it, solely because of Animal collective and their recent album, Merriweather Post Pavilion.
first there is the eye tantalizing cover
then their is their first video for 'My Girls'
and then there is the first single for 'Summertime Clothes'. I could stare at this for hours.
and then there is the video for 'Summertime Clothes' with many dancers, balls of light, excellent textiles, and of course colorful light!
I must admit, that the sounds and colors of this album are so complementing. a full frontal on your ears and eyes. if only I could get to one of their shows these days :(
first there is the eye tantalizing cover
then their is their first video for 'My Girls'
and then there is the first single for 'Summertime Clothes'. I could stare at this for hours.
and then there is the video for 'Summertime Clothes' with many dancers, balls of light, excellent textiles, and of course colorful light!
I must admit, that the sounds and colors of this album are so complementing. a full frontal on your ears and eyes. if only I could get to one of their shows these days :(
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