I’ve been holding on to this song for a long time, at least a year or two, unsure whether or not I’d post it. Obviously, here it is… The album on which “Advice” appears, 2 little birds, is out of print; Fellows asks on her website that it not be purchased digitally, if available, as she has not consented to it sale in this manner. That said, I can certainly pitch her latest work, Nevertheless, released last November, which features the same cellist heard here, Leanne Zacharias, plus Weakerthan (and husband) John K. Samson.
Holland Buffalo
Yay! It’s always a good email day when something comes from The Harvey Girls. You’re never sure what it might be – concept album, tribute, covers, et. al. – but you know that it will have a healthy dose of sweetly melancholic harmonies wrapped in a subtle sonic blanket that’ll keep you warm and cozy. Well, it turns out that for the past year or so they’ve been collaborating with the lovely and equally adventurous UK outfit Feedle, latter-day ambient wizards who make lo-fi electronic music that in more devious marketing hands might be called “lifestyle music.” What happens when the two come together? Layers upon layers of pop bliss. Plus, you can download the two tracks here and then go to Amie St. and get the other two for 26 cents, or be a real champ and buy the whole EP for a mere 52 cents. Yay!
Pale Young Gentlemen
Orchestral pop is nothing new, but Madison, Wisconsin’s Pale Young Gentlemen manage to have fun with the genre by adding some theatrics and wit without overdosing on irony (though their cellist is, despite the fairly band’s descriptive name, a woman). That’s about all I have to say, as every other reputable music blog has already beat us to the punch.
Japancakes
For seven years, Athens, Georgia’s Japancakes have reliably turned out what, if it were distortion-laden and featured ethereal vocals, would be labeled “shoegazer.” Instead my people call it good ol’ fashioned instrumental country music with the occasional twist. It’s only fitting, then, that they decided to cover the shoegazer classic-of-all-classics — My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless — in its entirety. Pedal steel and cello replace the vocal and guitar melodies. The mood and structure remains very much intact and it’s lovely…just not as fulfilling as the original, or as a regular Japancakes record. Which might be why, as a sort of insurance against cynics like me, they released Giving Machines, an incredible album of originals (plus one Cocteau Twins cover), within a couple weeks of Loveless. As a package, it’s one of the sweeter releases of the year. Double down, I always say.
Efterklang
It’s only been about seven months since I first posted Efterklang, but they have a new album out and a fantastic, playful, M.C. Escher-esque video and, well, it’s all very exciting. Both “Cutting Ice to Snow” and “Mirador” (the video track) showcase Efterklang’s beautiful knack for creating soundtracks to films that haven’t been made — though I guess in the case of “Mirador” that’s only half true. Whichever way you look at it, it’s a sublime way to add a lilting soundtrack to your own never-ending film. Oh, and for those of you in Europe, Efterklang will be on tour all season, so go to their website and see if they’ll be near you…
Annuals
Let me begin today’s post with a favorite passage from the book I’m currently reading: “For what is genius, I ask you, but the capacity to be obsessed? Every normal child has that capacity; we have all been geniuses, you and I; but sooner or later it is beaten out of us, the glory fades, and by the age of seven most of us are nothing but wretched little adults.” An apt description as to why I’m NOT a genius. The only things I have the capacity to be obsessed over are chocolate and burritos. Not always in that order. The power of concentration eludes me. Like Homer Simpson, I’m so easily distracted, not by squirrels like Homer, but by all sorts of flights of fancy: reading, writing, picture taking, music listening, journaling, bike riding, skateboarding, snacking, and fathering, that I never obsess over any one thing and therefore fail to excel at anything (with the exception of fathering: I’m working like mad to raise three responsible members of society).
Likewise, Annuals seem unable to pin themselves down to any one sound. “Dry Clothes” shines through like a summery Beach Boys tune, “Bleary Eyed” trots along like a Grateful Dead jam, “Brother” inches along as an atmospheric meditation, and they drop a dance-floor beat into their remake Manchester Orchestra’s “Where Have You Been?” Eventually all these comparisons break down as the songs break down as well into something sometimes entirely different. It seems concentration escapes Annuals as well, but their lack of focus still retains a playful childhood capacity for genius.
Le Loup
Reports from those who have seen Le Loup live say the album sounds thin compared to their shows. That’s because the album, The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations’ Millennium General Assembly, is the handiwork of frontman Sam Simkoff pre seven-piece live band. Simkoff, if you buy into the focal points of the band’s promo shots, looks like the indie rock version of Woody Allen: horn-rimmed glasses, basic collared shirts and khakis. In fact, the band’s bio, not to mention the album title, reads like a set up to a Woody Allen joke: inspired by Dante’s Inferno and and ’50s folk artist James Hampton, Simkoff the banjo player… The outcome is anything but comical. Flying solo, Simkoff succeeds at creating small epics like “We Are Wolves! We Are Gods!” spaced-out pop songs sounding like a hybrid of Devendra Banhart and Say Hi To Your Mom with the jamming tendencies of Animal Collective. With his trusty troupe of troubadours in tow I have no doubt he can translate his bedroom vision into something grand.
Múm
For the uninitiated: Múm makes music that would emanate from Willy Wonka’s jewelry box. I can close my eyes and actually see their music. It looks like a found object sculpture, with various instruments, kitchen utensils, and all manner of gadgets (analog and digital) piled high and held together with catgut and twine. A marvelous contraption set in motion and song by dropping a large marble into a bright chrome cylinder soldered to the top. As the marble travels down the sculpture, in, out, and back in again, it triggers notes, chords, voices, tiny starched flags adorned with glitter and stars and fastened to thin gold poles, flickering in and out of view—an explosion of sparkles signaling each change of timbre and tone, beat and bell, melody and mood. In a word, or two, utterly fanciful. Múm is the music of the butterflies that tickle your heart when you’re in love. If this is the first Múm song you’ve ever heard, please don’t let it be your last…
Mirah and Spectratone International
Observations of insects are typically rendered so clinical that you may as well be studying accounting or, on the flipside, so elementary that you’re dealing with plush caterpillars whose sole purpose is to teach your child how to hug. Share this Place: Stories and Observations is, well, a creature of a different stripe. The multimedia project commissioned in 2006 by the Portland Institute for Contemporary Art features music by Mirah (repeat after me: We love Mirah) and her longtime collaborators Lori Goldston and Kyle Hanson, AKA Spectratone International (also with Jane Hall and Kane Mathis), and stop-motion video by Britta Johnson. It sounds like something that could easily become child’s play, and in fact the chamber pieces are indeed playful and alive — Spectratone’s arrangements give a subtle bounce to Mirah’s ever-airy vocals, and Johnson’s stop-motion insects are made from all manner of found objects and wander around rolling dung and other fun things. But it’s also serious literary entomology thanks to its source material: Jean Henri Fabre is considered the father of the study of insects and is most remembered for telling his tiny friends’ tales as first-person narratives. So it is that in “Credo Cigalia†(video below) a cricket addresses us with “you’ve no choice but to listen to my song.†And on the fantastically delicate “Community,†rather than a standard lecture on the group habits of six-legged creatures, you get a lullaby so sweet and smart that you’ll want to sing it to your sons and daughters all the way to MIT.
Pinback
Like just about everyone, I often think of bands in terms of the other bands of which they remind me. For Pinback, I picture them as a West Coast Sebadoh. Even though it’s meant in the most admiring way, such a classification is not fair because it may make it sound like they’re somehow aping the discordant yet melodic Bostonians who like their Splatter Technique lyrics with healthy doses of punk guitar and punker feedback. Plus, there’s the whole repetition thing that Pinback takes much further than Lou and the gang: chords, chorus, repeat. You can hear it all the way through Pinback’s discography and right up to their most recent, Autumn of the Seraphs. And contrary to every track sounding the same, each one finds a new way to make the same old thing sound totally original. No wonder Pinback’s following is so loyal. Check out a new track and some older ones, then check out Pinback guy Rob Crow, whose recent solo release kinda-sorta sounds like Pinback but kinda-sorta covers even more new territory.
ORIGINAL POST (9/17/04):
For those who consider “indie” a genre rather than just a classification, it’s probably such lo-fi, wounded-guy sounds as Sebadoh, Built to Spill, and Modest Mouse that come to mind when you hear the “I” word. But don’t forget about Pinback, who return to rock your world — well, that may be a bit overstated — with some loopy, melancholic, melodic pop. What’s new is “indie” again on the splendid single “Fortress.” The others are just for nostalgia’s sake.