It’s the day after Thanksgiving and I’m still thinking about eating. Even the music I’m listening to reminds me of eating. Enter Boy Eats Drum Machine. It’s somewhat of a misnomer because Jon Ragel the multi-instrumentalist behind the moniker is all grown up and no, he didn’t eat a drum machine. Instead, he joined forces with a who’s who line-up of Portland indie rock drummers via a local drum break series called Bridgetown Breaks. Drum credits go to the drummers of Viva Voce, Talkdemonic, and Menomena among others. Ragel adds everything else and it’s a plateful: turntables, synths, tenor sax, guitar, organ, and yes, bravely, vocals. RJd2 didn’t even step behind the mic until his second album. From record one (Booomboxxx is his third) Ragel’s armed with one turntable, one microphone and all the goodies mentioned above. The result is a scratchy, earnest pastiche of jazz, breaks, spaghetti western soundtracks, and soulful crooning. A delicious mix of sounds for the whole family to feast on this holiday season!
Lex Land
Hands down, Lex Land is one of the more gorgeous voices we’ve featured on these pages of late. Although Lex Land is somewhat of an antithesis to my usual selections. My favorite songs are the ones I can sing along to, songs with hooky choruses and witty verses. I’m drawn to songs that make me want to sing. The “quality” of the music or the “ability” of the musicians in question are secondary. I listen to music with my gut, not my brain. Lex Land reminds me that I can’t sing, because man, she sure can. However, Lex Land does leave room for the untrained among us in her songs. My favorite songs of hers, and my favorite parts of this song, are the small, intimate, almost reluctant moments when she almost falters, moments that leave me holding my breath, hoping she pulls it off. Those moments are plentiful, as are the ones where Lex Land soars far beyond anything I might muster.
The Soft Hands
The Soft Hands have resurrected the twitch and punch of the ’70s post-punk sound. They’ve more than resurrected it; they’ve bumped it up a notch or two. They’re jumpier than XTC, snottier than Joe Jackson, more herky-jerky than the Talking Heads. Repeated listens may induce seizures, limb-flailing pogo dancing about the room at least. Suffering from restless leg syndrome? Get out from behind your desk and let The Soft Hands shake the wiggles out of you.
Blind Pilot
The coolest thing about Blind Pilot (besides the music…I’ll get to that in a second) is that they just finished a tour of the West Coast on their BIKES! Gear and all, they pedaled their way down from Bellingham, Washington to San Diego, California. It took them just under two months. As a fellow bike commuter I’m extremely impressed by this feat. Taking the length of my commute into consideration (1.1 miles), this admiration shouldn’t come as a surprise. Likewise, after one listen to these Blind Pilot songs you’ll understand my admiration for their music. Simple, stripped down, yet completely majestic. “Go On, Say It” benefits from swelling strings and doubled vocals, but even those basic flourishes are just that. Flourishes, not crutches. “Paint or Pollen” proves Blind Pilot is capable of capturing and perfectly harnessing that elusive little thing we call pop music with nothing but the bare essentials.
Skew
The opening track on Skew’s debut album is a bit of an understatement. Stadiums are more than just OK. Stadiums are where things first got skewed for Skew. I’m assuming as much. At six, a young Skew got turned onto the rock ‘n’ roll at an Iron Maiden concert. Afterwards, his grandfather financed guitar lessons, he ended up at Berklee College of music, and the rest is history. Skew sludges out ethereal rock riffs and then lays down hip hop beats to keep the party moving. The result is a grittier Ratatat with a raw, bone-rattling low-end. You can hear his progression on the baskets of tracks on his site. There are plenty of originals along with his under the radar remixes—Radiohead, M.I.A., Yeah Yeah Yeahs—and his mash ups of Nirvana and The Beatles against themselves. Get Skew today (the album’s fresh on sale) and expect plenty more from him in the future.
Mother Mother
I’ve been sitting on Mother Mother for too long. Please accept my apologies. They got lost in the shuffle that is my life, although I’ve been playing this track on my radio show for months. So I haven’t been completely hoarding the goods. “O My Heart,” the album’s title track, recalls the Pixies in a big way, especially the vocal play between Frank Black and Kim Deal. I don’t make that comparison lightly. I only do so because the band pulls it off beautifully and I only do so because the band is so much more than a Pixies rehash. In fact, the band probably shares more sonic sensibilities with their Canadian labelmates The New Pornographers. The band began as an acoustic trio, with brother and sister team Ryan and Molly Guldemond and Debra-Jean Creelman. All sing, contributing to the band’s arena worthy harmonies. It’s the play between Mother Mother’s big rock sound and their coffee house intimacy that gives the band that comfort food sound.
MC Z vs. Rocom
Sylvie
Yes, I was stoked on this song right away. Yes, it reminded me of Jawbox. No, I wasn’t surprised to see that J. Robbins produced the record. No, the Jawbox comparison doesn’t do the band justice. Yes, there’s much more to Sylvie than that. Yes, you can stream the whole record here. Yes, you should. Yes, I’m voting today. Yes, you should vote today. No, I’m not going to tell you who I’m voting for. Yes, I’m tired of hearing about politics, tired of talking about politics, tired of politicking about politics. Yes, I’m glad 3hive just talks about music. Yes, I’m glad I found Sylvie today. Yes, they float my boat.
1000 Robota
They’re young (barely 18), German (yes, they sing in their native tongue), angular (think Wire, The Fall), and they’re following in the footsteps of obscure ’80s post-punk compatriots (Palais Schaumburg anyone? Yeah, they were new to me too). I’m showing my age when I say that I remember when people actually pogo-danced at shows, but 1000 Robata’s Liquid Liquid groove coupled with their angry-Devo delivery bounce me back happily to those seminal years.
Love Grenades
This track is a gem among gems on the new Accidental Rhythm compilation curated by Jason Eldredge and Jeremy Wineberg, a couple L.A. lads who are all that and a bag of chips. Hickory BBQ, my current fave. Need to spice up your life? Then boogie on down to this saucy track. This thing is all groove: brown chicken, brown cow! (What’s the lead-in to that punchline?) and as classic as anything off Thriller, without all that Neverland baggage. Instead you get the gorgeous and sultry Liz Wight. Priceless. I should stop gushing now. If you’re in L.A. you can judge for yourself—they’re playing the Echo the next two Fridays.