After featuring Under Byen last month, the good folks at Morningside Records kindly left a handful of suggestions in the comments. Their roster balances between two forces of pop music: dreamy and power. I Am Bones does the power pop thing, along the lines of Figurines. I find it interesting that these two fine Danish bands draw heavily from the American indie rock sound from the 90s at a time when so many contemporary American bands lean towards the heady, arena-sized sound of Radiohead. I’m not afraid to admit my bias. Usually when I drop needle to groove, or hit play, or insert my ear-buds, I want to sing-along (dig the chorus to “The Ostrich Approach:” “I’ll hook you up / with alcohol and valium…”), jump around, get the endorphins flowing…I don’t want to think about music, I just want to move to it. I Am Bones will certainly get you shaking your own skeleton. If I might point out one song in particular here, “Oktoberfest Vs. Morrissey” would make a great addition to your Thanksgiving mix tape. ONLY if you’re a loud and proud meat lover. Vegans beware. May I suggest a subtitle? “Turkey Vs. Tofurkey.”
Millimeters Mercury
“Her hips were sharp in the dark / in a park on N. Clark”
Millimeters Mercury, “Not Too Fast”
When a bunch of my old students went off to college in Chicago — hi Katherine, Jared, Mia, Jen L., Tom G., etc. — I really wanted to make them a good Chicago mix, but it just didn’t work out. I had Sufjan Stevens and Ryan Adams, Liz Phair and Rhett Miller, Wilco and Soul Coughing. But I still hadn’t come across Canasta or Millimeters Mercury (mmHg, for my wife and her Ph.D. science friends) — especially “Not Too Fast.” What a great song! Part of the Mr. Hyde Records crew, the now-defunct Millimeters Mercury has since split into a bunch of other bands, like Cola Wars. Check out the band’s website for their math rock discography, including about 30 additional free downloads.
Health & Beauty
There’s something very, very good happening on Chicago’s south side, and that good thing is called Mr. Hyde Records. To quote from their mission statement, Mr. Hyde is a record label that “focuses on making definitive compilations of the rock music being made in Hyde Park.” When I lived in Hyde Park ten years ago, it wasn’t really clear that there was much music being made in the neighborhood; it didn’t help that there was only one bar, Jimmy’s, and the local university is pretty geeky. Then again, as 3hive proves week in and week out, geeks rock. Based on Mr. Hyde’s output, like the recent Jackson Park Express compilation, the U of C scene is rich, diverse and (surprise, surprise) notably cerebral.
So, Cola Wars was our first Mr. Hyde related post, even if I didn’t really know what it meant at the time. (In true home-grown fashion, all these guys are in ten bands and running their own label.) Anyway, Health & Beauty is another band in the family; Brian J. Sulpizio even looks like my cousin’s crazy ex-boyfriend. Though his music doesn’t really reflect this craziness — you’ll find a little noise here and there, among beautiful melodies and smart, smoothly-delivered lyrics — the Health & Beauty website itself is like a psychedelic corn maze of poetry and random association. I spent at least an hour wandering around “Eraser Metropolis”, following the links and taking it all in. Over the next few weeks I’ll post a few more Mr. Hyde bands; if you like what you hear, go ahead and buy a few compilations.
She, Sir
Austin-based quartet, She, Sir recently built a lovely wall-of-sound EP, stacked with layers upon layers of guitars, modal harmonies, and hushed melodies. With the subtle hooks and deep atmospherics of Who Can’t Say Yes, She, Sir drop pop music to an even vaguer level than Loveless. She, Sir beautifully fractures music for the next generation of dream-pop connoisseurs.
The Silent Years
Listening to The Silent Years takes me back to my oh-so-glorious college radio days. We were on the AM frequency and didn’t have an FCC license so we couldn’t broadcast off-campus, which wouldn’t have been so limiting if it hadn’t been a commuter campus. The quietude afforded us time and space to make mistakes, build playlists with no real agenda, and explore the piles and piles of promo CDs stacked around the studio (despite signs asking that everything go back to from whence it came). The Silent Years is like a band I may have found in a pile, an earnest young outfit with vaguely nihilistic lyrics sung, possibly ironically, with great emotion, and riffs that made me nod my head but weren’t obnoxious enough to cause consternation. Coulda been Texas is the Reason, or Ash, or any of a dozen others. I would throw it in the rotation, maybe play another song at the top of each hour, and be fully obsessed before my timeslot was over. Anyhow, The Silent Years give me fond memories and have the potential to become an aural obsession that I’d like to tell the world about, or at least those of you who get the signal.
Rainer Maria
I remember my friend Tim Ortopan was so excited after he bought Rainer Maria’s latest (well, April ’06) album Catastrophe Keeps Us Together that he had me listening to it within 24 hours of purchase. It’s a shame there don’t seem to be any free, legal and full-length MP3s from Catastrophe… available to post here, because they’d be a good fit at the top of our list, showing the all-important change over time (“delta” from science class, right?). If you can’t hear the development and maturity of a band while working bottom-up through the selection of songs below, go get your earwax cleaned out! Obviously, I think Catastrophe… continues this trend with wonderful results. From pounding drums and entwined screaming voices back in the ’90s to today’s complex and melodic sounds, Rainer Maria just makes good music.
Every Move a Picture
Nigh on two years ago, I wrote about my wife asking me, “Are you listening to 80’s music?” whilst posting about Kawaii. When I was getting Every Move A Picture’s album Heart=Weapon from eMusic recently, she asked me that yet again. I really should have posted about this San Francisco band this time last year, but I passed. However, I recently discovered them again, filling that space between Bloc Party and Interpol. So flying back from SFO on Friday night going through Bay Area bands—reminding me how much I still miss the late great Henry’s Dress—on my MP3 player I decided to finally get around to Every Move A Picture. Their website points to their myspace page, where you can grab at a lower bitrate two of the better songs, “Outlaw” and “Simple Lessons in Love,” from their album.
The Little Ones
In recording their debut Sing Song EP, The Little Ones had two goals: 1) convince themselves that everything was going to be alright, and 2) make their own feet shuffle. I’m posting about them because they managed to help me achieve those two goals as well. Which, alas, brings me to my third goal: clean my house. At least I know what I’ll be listening to…
Princeton
Princeton is not from Princeton. I have my doubts that the floppy-headed Santa Monica twins and their best friend, who recorded their first E.P. in London while on study-abroad programs, have ever set foot in New Jersey. They claim such classic Brit-pop songwriters Ray Davies and Rod Argent as influences, and their four-track stylings, carefree lyrical associations and bookish sensibilities also bring to mind Ben Lee, Lou Barlow, Stephen Malkmus, and Jonathan Richman. It takes more than cleverness to write a song about a pirate that doesn’t sound like a Broadway musical, or to sing a travelogue of an Asian city that doesn’t descend into kitsch. But Princeton does it well — with organs, acoustic guitar, and sweet, youthfully knowing vocals. Just don’t ask me which twin is singing.
The Low Frequency in Stereo
I’m still catching up with The Low Frequency in Stereo, but they may very well be my second favorite “In Stereo” band, after you-know-who. Their debut self-titled album featured careful, moving post-rock instrumentals. Then came 2005’s Travelling Ants Who Got Eaten by Moskus with decidedly more swagger — somehow splitting the diff between Siouxsie and the Banshees/Joy Division and Dick Dale (trust me). Their new album, last temptation of…, opens this formula up, at times, into new territory thanks to organ, horns, and even stronger pop leanings (e.g., the psychedelic euphoria of “Axes,” which could be mistaken for a Stereolab track). At this trajectory, I’m already looking forward to the next joint and this one hasn’t even been released yet.