Kinetic Stereokids hail from Flint, Michigan (third most dangerous city in the U.S. and one of the most depressing), where I reckon they hear a lot of car alarms. But you know what they say…when life gives you car alarms, make samples. And why stop with car alarms? KSK’s debut Basement Kids is an enticing grab bag of found sounds and samples, as well as free-range rap, folk and rock guitar, drowsy ballads, garage beats, cuttin’ and scratchin’, experimental knob noodling, and other random bits. Beck employed similar means to reach a different end on records like Mellow Gold and Odelay. Here there is a melancholy, desperate, and spiteful undercurrent which makes even the rough edges compelling to listen to. It won’t necessarily get the party started but makes an excellent public transportation soundtrack.
The Acorn
Look, I’ve got a house to clean but I still wanted to share The Acorn today. So, how’s this: if you’re inspired by what you hear, write your own post and add it to the comments section. I’ll send my favorite guest poster(s) a 3hive prize pack. Cool? Okay, now, where’d I leave the Swiffer…
Mouthful of Bees
A band called Mouthful of Bees will get at least one listen from me due to its connection, real or imagined, to Brian Evenson‘s wonderfully disturbing short story “Stung,” in which a boy kills his stepfather by…well, you don’t me want to give it away, do you? Mouthful of Bees got second, third, and fourth listens from me with a fresh take on that slurred (sm)art pop CYHSY and Tapes ‘n’ Tapes get so much credit for. While the genre is known for its frenzied pacing, their 2006 EP The End proves that Mouthful of Bees can speed it up and slow it down with equal dexterity (check “I Saw a Golden Light” on their MySpace page). “The Now” falls in the uptempo category. And, for all I know, their name may be the only connection to Evenson’s work, but singer Chris Farstad opens the song by crooning “In the time it took for me to write my novel/I did nothing in particular at all.” Hmm, fellow fiction buff or mere coincidence? Read the book.
The Never
The Never are the erstwhile geek rock (think Weezer) outfit of songwriters Ari Picker and Noah Smith, along with college friends Joah and Jonny Tunnell. I say “erstwhile” not just because it’s such a geeky word but because The Never’s latest LP extends well beyond geek rock to an intricately crafted multimedia project, including a 50-page illustrated storybook (featuring 40 original oil paintings by Noah himself) and a corresponding suite of songs depicting a country boy’s journey to return a nuclear bomb to the city. Word is The Never are aiming to adapt Antarctica for the stage. And, given the cinematic leanings of Ari’s latest Lost in the Trees EP, I wouldn’t be surprised if a film version follows…
Lost in the Trees
Part of the reason I’m dropping a Saturday two-fer on your ears is the overwhelming guilt of having missed the last two Saturdays. I mean, I used to be good for two posts a week and then some…take a look at me now. The other part of the reason is Ari Picker, singer/songwriter/pianist extraordinaire. His latest release as Lost in the Trees is the cinematic (in the Danny Elfman sense of the word) Time Taunts Me. It’s big and orchestral and at the same time intimate and folksy. The big and orchestral part can be attributed to the cast of fellow Berklee School of Music classical music students he convinced to breathe life into his arrangements. The intimate and folksy part is all Ari whose his whispered delivery and careful sentimentality give the whole thing a nice, soft underbelly. Big and orchestral blend with intimate and folksy to create a compelling and vaguely menacing landscape — like dark thunder clouds rolling over meticulous fields of wheat. The concept album bug seems to be spreading across everything Ari touches, when you look at where his indie pop/rock group The Never went with their latest—which leads me to Part Two of the two-fer…
Benni Hemm Hemm
With only 300,000 inhabitants, Iceland turns out more great music per capita than any other country. Another case in point: Benni Hemm Hemm. My favorite description of Benni Hemm Hemm is “a little big band with little big songs”. What began as a solo endeavor, the ReykjavÃÂk-based Benedikt H. Hermannsson eventually decided to go big…17 people big. Now, Benni Hemm Hemm bring together the sweet sounds of trombone, guitar, trumpet, cornet, glockenspiel, and much more with cheerful, hopeful, and sometimes silly crooning (occasionally sung in English—sellouts…). The songs are fleeting and leave you hungry for more, a convenient fact given Benni Hemm Hemm record quickly and frequently.
Ruetschle
The Paisley Underground is alive and well…in Dayton, Ohio!? (By now, I know I at least have Sean’s attention…) Ruetschle (pronounced “richly”) is the bright-eyed garage pop brainchild of Mike Ruetschle. The first two albums feature Mike’s tight songwriting talents and faux British accent. (I wonder if he ever uses that accent away from the mic, say, while going through the checkout lane of the local IGA.) But it’s not until 2006’s Exotic Destinations that Reutschle hit their groove, introducing harmonies, dynamics, and other fun to the mix. I mean, if “Can You Remember?” can make my 11-month-old—stricken with a nasty post-holiday cold—bob her head and clap her hands, you’ve got my vote…
PostPrior
As my friends and family will attest, I’m a big fan of Christmas-y songs — new and old, classic and offbeat. So I’m always thrilled when I hear a new entry in the genre, such as this ditty from PostPrior (Midwest Product’s Ben Mullins and drummer/descendent-of-circus-acrobats Michael Kuzmanovski). PostPrior’s Touched Pilot EP is an icy cool treat in its own right, with its intricately composed and delightfully goofy new wave soul. But, for now, the lyrics to “Snow Orge” so you can sing along on the way to Grandma’s house:
“Confusing Scientists
With Conscious thought and moving limbs
The sun comes out and then he melts
Only to re-form again
Avoiding Mobs and cops
Because they know not what he does
Cause this his life ’twas forged in ice
And so misunderstood
GO SNOW OGRE, POUND YOUR FISTS AND ROAR
GO SNOW OGRE, A FINE AMBASSADOR
GO SNOW OGRE, LET THE SNOWFLAKES FALL
GO SNOW OGRE, THE ICE CONSUMES US ALL
Mom and dad, are just a lab, he has no place, of residence
Alone on Christmastime
Speeding Sleds, Gingerbread, Hyper kids, packages
Rotate through his mind
In the snow, he built a fort, with fine decor and even more
The Ogre trims the tree
Down below, warmer homes, throw a bone, and telephone
Say Ogre PLAY WITH ME.
Go snow ogre, go snow ogre, go snow ogre go!
Go snow ogre, go snow ogre, pound your fists and roar
Go snow ogre, go snow ogre, go snow ogre go!
Go snow ogre, go snow ogre, a fine ambassador
Go snow ogre, go snow ogre, go snow ogre go!
Go snow ogre, go snow ogre, let the snowflakes fall
Go snow ogre, go snow ogre, go snow ogre go!
Go snow ogre, go snow ogre, the ice consumes us all”
Happy holidays, one and all 🙂
L.A.O.S.
I’ve been holding out on posting this one…holding out for the day when L.A.O.S.’s brilliant (not to mention educational!) “Panda Style” single becomes available to the masses—or to me, at least. Alas, it’s not widely available in any format and I can’t, according to the 3hive Oath, keep awesome free MP3 downloads to myself. L.A.O.S. (Large Amount of Soul) are a drum ‘n’ bass trio from Helsinki with a great ear for deep hooks, cheeky samples, and beats that won’t quit. “Drowning Deep Inside Your Soul” is a good taste of their sound. However, if you want to hear “Panda Style” you can stream it from their MySpace page, or download the DJ Abraham (1/3 of L.A.O.S.) mix from their old school site where it sits alongside some other killer dubplates. Also, if you don’t mind voiceover—and in this particular case I really don’t—I’d recommend the thrilling Hospital Records podcast where I first heard “Panda Style” (thanks Moodmat!). Rumor has it, L.A.O.S. will release at least one title on Hospital in the near future. Fingers crossed it’s you-know-what…
Blake Miller
“Son, you must be/Your own tree/Let your roots grow/Let them grow deep.” Wise words, though when sung by a 19-year-old Blake Miller they’re not so much delivered as sage counsel to the listener as they are repeated the way a kid would sing the grocery list on his way to the corner store lest he forget. Blake’s youth isn’t the only thing that makes him sound so special. His very human and melodic brand of folk helps distinguish him from the so-called “freak folk” genre (see Devendra Banhart) and creates a space he can call his own. I guess you could say he’s being his own tree…