On these very pages I have previously used the term “dance punk disco funk” to describe the Rapture. So please pardon me for applying the same label late on a Sunday night to London’s Plastic Passion. Owing an obvious debt to the Cure for inspiration and the name of their band, Plastic Passion are a rough and raw complication of their post-punk/new wave influences in an age where similar bands are perhaps a bit too slick in their production. I can unfortunately only imagine what grand fun their live shows are, combining said roughness with the palpable energy of their songs.
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.
Dujeous
Nothing says Thanksgiving to me more than Dujeous. Full disclosure: I’ve know these guys since before I was of legal drinking age, they are old friends and I am 100% totally, completely biased in their favor. Back in the good old days, there was always a Dujeous show to look forward to. You would see the family, put on your cute clothes and head out to whatever downtown venue the Duj happened to be playing at. You would have crushes on various Dujeous members. You would think you were really cool when you could sing all the words to “Spilt Milk”. But mostly, you would bliss out all night to the sweet sounds of good old-fashioned hip-hop, the kind that involves a drummer, a bass player, a trumpet and all manner of wonderful instruments. You may have heard the sounds of Dave Guy (trumpet) before, as he is super busy sidelining as a Dap-King, playing with Sharon Jones, a member of the Budos Band, appearing as a cartoon in the New Yorker and showing up on my television in Lily Allen’s band. The six other bandmembers, die-hard New Yorkers all, have been doing it up — producing, providing music for soundtracks of oscar winning films (see: Half Nelson), being MCs, touring what seems like ALL of Asia, popping up as staffers at my place of work, and just being Dujeous in general. (I’m told the name may serve as a noun, a verb or an adjective, depending on your mood.) I love them. Dujeous makes me highly nostalgic. More people should know about Dujeous. Hip-hop, instruments, big love for what they do — enough said.
Devin Davis
This is DIY at its best. Devin Davis did pretty much everything, from trombone to handclaps, on his 2004 release Lonely People of the World, Unite!. His old school indie-rock-soul sounds like it was backed by a crowd, but hey, that’s the point; lonely people usually have lots to say. Let’s hope a new release is on its way.
The Evens
To quote my friend Rick, “The best band ever.”Ian MacKaye and Amy Farina made this wonderful lo-fi pop (in punk rock style, of course), and frankly, we at 3hive have never featured a Dischord band until now. It was time to right this wrong.
Shelter Two [MP3, 3.6MB, 160kbps]Pushed Up Against the Wall [MP3, 3.3MB, 128kbps]
Spitzer
Spitzer consists of a couple young men raised in the same house in Lyon, France. These brothers have one goal: Make you dance. Currently, the duo is working on a four song EP called Roller Coaster and if the four tracks on their myspace page are any indication of what we’re in for, we’re in for some big, bright and bold dancefloor action. I love the early Speak & Spell-like synth tones used on “Disco Biscuits.” Of course they’ve been pumped up ala Marion Jones for maximum rump-shakin’ enjoyment. The track opens with one synth riff getting overshadowed by another, high up in the mix, trampling over the first until that second riff distorts itself into oblivion as the track finally settles into its groove, a slamming epiphany imminent. Spitzer proves France still has fertile fields to harvest for yet another generation of club kids.
The Radishes
I never pegged myself as a sucker for reminiscing about some bygone era of youthful indiscretions set to a soundtrack so loud that it did permanent hearing damage. Then again, I never figured that the moment I had a child, my life before that moment would become an abstraction only referential as fragmented memories and out-of-body mental snapshots. I hope that doesn’t sound too wistful because there’s nothing better than being a parent, but on our first “official” family road trip this past week there were a couple of moments when I’d just about gotten my fill of baby-friendly playlists and was ready for a quick mental cleanse of the kind that The Radishes are fond of administering. Y’know, the kind with simple riffs repeated fast and loud, driving bass and drums (provided by the former rhythm section for Ministry!), and acidic vocals that scream alienation, anger, and irony. Alas, when the baby is sleeping in the back seat and your wife has taken the reins of the iPod, you don’t always get that instant aural gratification. But when you’re home early on a Friday morning and the rest of the family is asleep behind closed doors, you can put on the headphones, turn it up all the way and get a good dose of noise, sweet noise.
Z-Trip
For the longest time you’d have to dig up classic Z-Trip mixes by way of some friendly shared drive somewhere. Now that Z-Trip has sobered up from his major label affair (only one album…who saw that coming?), he’s his own boss. And that means, among other things, a website with downloads to die for. I’ve included a couple of his original compositions (featuring the inimitable Chali2Na and Lateef the Truthspeaker). But if you haven’t already heard such classic mashup mixdowns as Uneasy Listening, Live at the Future Primitive, and The Anti-War Mix stop what you’re doing right now and pay a visit to Chez Z-Trip.
Demander
The Santa Ana’s are roaring in these parts. The winds and smoke burn my sinuses, eyes and throat. And after spending two hours helping my 6th grader with his math homework my brain’s burnt as well. Fight fire with fire! Demander has brought a sweet equilibrium to my dry and fried skull. Imagine Siouxsie Sioux rising out of the DC punk scene as part of the Dischord family. Yeah, it’s cool, and cools, like that.
Miss Fairchild
The promo materials promise that Miss Fairchild aren’t a bunch of “suburban white kids play-acting at being an ’80s funk band.” Well, unless they were born in Detroit fifty years ago they are exactly a bunch of suburban white kids posing as an ’80s funk band, and guess what??? THAT’S OK. All I care about is that you actually pull it off without a whiff of irony. Miss Fairchild does just that. They are 100% committed to a rump-shakin’ dancefloor party, no wink-wink-nudge-nudge attached. Miss Fairchild bring the smooth, R&B-styled party-pop, the kind that’ll have all your friends waving their hands in the air like they just don’t care, especially during the “cha-cha” breakdown in “Number One”…”Yeah Rosie, Yeah Rosie, Yeah Vije, Yeah Vije, Yeah Patty, Yeah Patty, Yeah SylviiiiiiAAAA!!”
Now all they need to do is hop on the road with Hunter Revenge and Gen-Y’s Prince will have his Morris Day counterpart. Deluxe.