A couple of weeks ago, I was putting together some mix CDs for my wife for her birthday and, as usually happens, I loaded them up with Hall & Oates. She likes them. I say I don’t. Yet the truth is that not only is there an H&O song that is indelible in our romantic history, but those goofy-looking dudes wrote some pretty fine pop songs. There, I said it. The Hush Now said it, too. The poppy quartet is fronted by Noel Kelly, who almost died listening to Queen and who draws on The Apples in Stereo and Built to Spill, among others, for comparison to their frenetic power chords and his own melancholy tenor. But, for all of their “indie-pop-shoegazer†(their words, not mine) name-dropping, it’s that touch of Darryl and John that gets me every time.
Sam Bennett
Sam Bennett’s music is for the post-sarcastic, post-ironic believer in &mdash what did Obama call it? oh yeah — the audacity of hope within all (some? a few?) of us. As Detroit lurches towards extinction right down the expressway from my house, I’m thinking the honest, upbeat, youthful dreaminess of this British singer-songwriter will temper the total depression that’s surely going to soak southeast Michigan. (Either that, or a huge meteorite will blast us into oblivion; right now, I’ll take Bennett’s positivity instead.) Listen to “I Love” first to get a sense of what to expect, then check out “I Am A Lighthouse” if you’re still into it. And for those of you who are all snarky, who live in a state where the unemployment rate is lower than a typical mortgage rate, for those of you who are still listening to that which celebrates our impending darkness, don’t even bother. Personally, I think we need more lighthouses among us.
We Landed on the Moon!
Sometimes you just need to dance when you’re sweeping the kitchen floor. Sometime you just need to bounce in your seat on a long drive home. Sometimes you just need to let this Baton Rouge band fill your ears with their dance-y take on 90’s rock after spending time digging through your old shoegaze albums to get your head back to reality. And sometimes I talk about myself in the second person.
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.
The Gay Blades
Clark from The Gay Blades sat down and recorded this song a few days after he heard that Paul Newman had passed away. He, like myself and many others, thought Paul Newman was about as good as actors, and men, got. Perhaps he just wanted to remember Newman or perhaps he wanted to offer a eulogy. Whatever it was, he picked well. In Cool Hand Luke Newman sang “Plastic Jesus†to mourn the death of his mother. Clark sings it as much more of a celebration, which you get the feeling would have suited Newman just fine.
Frank Hoier
There’s nothing like a good protest song. There are plenty such songs—heck, whole bands, that just aren’t any fun. They take themselves so seriously and make music for people with no sense of humor or joie de vivre. That ain’t me, ‘coz I get the joie, baby! So does Frank Hoier. I bet if he watched the U.S. Vice Presidential debate last night, he started strumming “Jesus Don’t Give Tax Breaks to the Rich†about halfway through. And I bet if his bandmates the Weber Brothers were there with him, they started strumming and picking right along. And I bet that if anyone else was there, they all clapped and stomped their feet and sang along. And I bet instead of getting angry at the people who might rule the free world in a couple of months, they all smiled, laughed, and felt the joie!
Rickolus
You reap what you share. Here’s proof. A reader tipped me off to this prolific Floridian after encountering Radical Face on 3hive. Something’s obviously been brewing off the coast down there in Jacksonville, FL. Rickolus is one Richard Colado, who sings for the band The Julius Airwave, and he can’t seem to sit still for long. Below are songs from each of his five albums, recorded in as many years, with probably double the friends (including Ben Cooper AKA Radical Face). The recordings are inspired both thematically and sonically by everything from Colado’s children, video game music, anime, friends, to his own backyard. Winter’s Daughter is an intimate and introspective epic fable of, presumably, Colado’s children. American Backyard has a certain back-porch-folksy feel, Video Game Birthday Party’s darkly festive mood depends heavily on Casios and Korgs, and Soundtrack… predictably, but not disappointingly, sounds more cinematic. With the exception of the latter, Colado’s melancholic vocals accompany most of the songs. The quality and quantity of Rickolus’ music is worth way more than the word-of-mouth plug I’m offering here. And considering every song from every album is yours for the sharing it wouldn’t hurt donating a dime or two when you drop by for more downloads.
Hifiklub
Hot off the French Riviera and into my suburban home, a bike ride away from a large, democratic swath of California beach, via our trusty suggestion box is Hifiklub. Their album was produced by Earl Slick, best known for his guitar work on Bowie’s Young Americans and Station to Station albums. The first single, “Babe Doll” starts off with a Blur-esque dance beat, moaning guitars lead to spoken/sung vocals, the guitars go all angular, and then they’re just Dave Allen’s deadly bass groove shy of ushering in France’s Gang of Four resurgence. The band was kind enough to offer up a second track off their album, French Accent, which we’re happy to pass along to you even though thematically it’s the antithesis to our little “sharing the sharing” project here. Yep, it’s all about stealing from your favorite bands, but in the artsy sense of the word, not in that smarmy blogging way of stealing.
The Upallnights
In this time of political posturing and ramblin’ rhetoric I’ve found someone with whom I can agree: Introducing The Upallnights, who have proposed the following plan for potential supporters: “Let’s go to the airport and catch a random flight…Let’s got to where the governments don’t lie and everything you eat tastes like blueberry pie.” If they’re including a scoop of vanilla bean ice-cream in the deal, count me in! The Upallnights are nothing more than four unassuming lads from Stockholm armed with guitars, drums, blasting out jangly punk pop bullets that will keep your feet dancing. The cover of their new EP, Factory Sessions, should give you an idea of the band’s modus operandi. If you’re unfamiliar with the concept of young boys with light sabers, let me tell you they mean business. Stay out of their way, cuz they, um, just wanna have fun.
The Laureates
This post marks my return from “The Last Frontier,” Alaska. Yes, I’ve spent the last couple weeks far removed from what I consider civilization, cavorting with cohos, bears, foxes, moose, and mosquitoes. And the hot-fudge milkshake at Lucky Wishbone in Anchorage (oh man, they’d burn the hot-fudge just a bit for a palate pleasing punch. Heaven!). We did spend a few days in the wilderness, about fifteen miles north west of Willow where I mostly hung around the banks of the Deshka River with a fishing pole, coaxing those silver salmon onto my hook. Don’t mistake me for an outdoorsman though. My idea of the outdoors is the not-so-desolate stretch of the Pacific Ocean where I’m never too far from the Ahi Steak Sandwich at TK Burger. Once home, I stopped by the over-flowing post office box to begin catching up on music. The Laureates lured me in first with their brightly packaged advance of their debut album There are No More Gentlemen. I was easily hooked by their raw, ’60s freakbeat sound and their jerky, syncopated rhythms. A couple early Laureates fans beat me to some apt descriptions like “equal parts paisley and punk” and “Interpol produced by Phil Spector.” Absolutely right up my alley. You can also download their first EP off their site.