Often the best part of art films is the moody instrumental soundtrack. Thanks to Epic45, you can now get your moody instrumental soundtrack without having to sit through the art film.
Bloc Party
Bloc Party churn out quirky, spastic post-punk curiosities that you can imagine were recorded in a bitter cold South London practice space around 1982 — only half of which could be true. Their debut LP drops September 14; the major label bidding war should start shortly thereafter (if it hasn’t already).
Comets on Fire
Sometimes a band’s name describes their music, sound, and modus operandi better than anything a fumbling music critic could come up with on an early Monday morning…
Mouse on Mars
Mouse on Mars have mastered many genres by showing allegiance to none; rather, they rely on sound songwriting to make even their most adventurous work feel just right. This cut off their eighth LP, Radical Connector, is a case in point: a breathy vocal pop track sliced ‘n’ diced in a vocoder-stutter-funk stylee without once losing sight its memorable tune.
The Dismemberment Plan
After ten years of recording their own spastic, elastic brand of pop, The Dismemberment Plan “open sourced” 11 of their songs and let the public have at them in a sort of remix-off. Some notable — and wildly eclectic — results were released on last fall’s swan song, A People’s History of The Dismemberment Plan. Me? I can’t decide between the breakneck bricolage of “Pay for the Piano” (featuring cameos by Elvis Costello’s “Pump It Up”) or the strolling mash-up of “Superpowers” (built on the guitar line from the Faces’ “Ooh La La”).
The High Dials
Each of these harmony-drenched psychedelic pop romps tells a chapter in the story of a fictional character named Silas. Does that make it sound any sweeter? Not really, but it’ll give you something to talk about as you play this for friends.
Juana Molina
In Latino circles, this same Juana Molina is best known as the star of “Juana y Sus Hermanas,” an Argentinian sketch comedy TV series. In my circle, she’s famous for delicate, undulating serenades that are both timely and timeless. Talk about range…
The Dying Californian
The Dying Californian’s frayed alt-country ballads pack such subtly heartbreaking lyrics, you may find yourself hitting rewind the same way you used to with R.E.M.’s Murmur. Exhibit A, from “Don’t Tell Me You Love Me”: “If you tell me you love me/It would be a bad thing/My heart would start wondering/About the songs it could sing.”
Headset
Allen Avanessian (Plug Research) and Jimmy Tamborello (Dntel, Postal Service, Figurine) hit the lab with a hard drive full of devolved beats and glitch-and-paste collages, then invite a who’s who of electronic and hip-hop innovators to muse over the sparse foundation. The result ranges from head-nodding to chin-stroking; this track, featuring verbal gymnast Subtitle flowing over what sounds like a dying music box, exemplifies the latter.
Asobi Seksu
With one eye on their shoes and the other trained on the stars, Asobi Seksu blissfully revive their genre of choice through cloudbursts of fuzzed-out guitars juxtaposed against sometimes hopeful, sometimes forlorn (and sometimes Japanese) vocals.