Some of you youngsters may not immediately recognize the name Kristin Hersh. I hate to sound all grandfatherly and stubborn, but you should. She and Throwing Muses were the ’80s indie rock antitode to the Pixies: less visionary loose screw with arena-sized riffs than enigmatic everywoman of chilling insight who could rock with the best of ’em and lay down heartbreaking four-track ballads. Well, she’s still rockin’ with her new band 50 Foot Wave, and she’s doin’ it for free. “Money has so polluted the music world that my overwhelming urge right now is to divorce money from recorded music…So we’re sending free recordings off into the world to do their work. If people enjoy these songs and are excited by them, we ask that they share them with others. The music business is about fame and huge profits — egos and greed — music itself, is not.”
Immaculate Machine
Neal took me on my first snowboarding experience a few weeks ago, and on our way to the fake-snow-covered landfill that is skiing in SE Michigan, we listened to CBC Radio 3. What a cool show! (And a good way to get my mind off of impending pain. Actually, Neal is a GREAT teacher, and while I never managed to actually turn the snowboard on purpose, I didn’t hurt anyone either.) Immaculate Machine got spun, and I was sold quickly on their late ’80s new wave sound. Plus, I bet they don’t snowboard on other people’s old garbage in British Columbia.
Madman Moon
A good friend of mine used to regularly harp on me using the line, “Sean, you don’t know anything about music before 1979.” He was referring to the year XTC released their album Drums & Wires, the first album I ever bought with my hard-earned, paper-route cash. In a way he’s right. I didn’t have older siblings whose album collections I could pilfer from. I started with XTC and moved forward, not looking back much. Admittedly, my ability to reference back to classic ’60s and ’70s rock is lacking. Had I ever gone back and done a bit of homework I’d be able to better situate Madman Moon in that spectrum, because they fit in there somewhere. Shades of Bowie, ELO, and even The Doors come through, but there’s another connection or two in there that I just can’t nail down. Anyone else care to take a stab at it?
Cub Country
Cub Country is Jeremy Chatelain who’s done time with bands like Jets to Brazil, Handsome, and (taking it way back) the SLC hardcore band Lumberjack — a band I interviewed on my first radio show, a little punk rock thing called “Unrest on the Seventh Day.” All-around quality this kid Jeremy. Cub Country began while Jeremy was living in Brooklyn as an outlet for his own songs that had no home. Ironic that a move out east initiated his western sound. It’s 2006 (a new year for all of us, have a happy and safe one!) and Cub Country is now situated in Seattle and should have a new album tracked and ready to go soon. Email Jeremy and tell him you like what you hear and can’t wait for more. Oh yeah, and tell him I said hello.
White Hassle
I first heard White Hassle on the Grand Life compilation for the Soho Grand boutique hotel…because that’s how we roll in the 2-1-2. I wanted to share “Watertank” with y’all but the whole thing is not available for free online (head over to eMusic and pick it up for some well-spent pennies). In the meantime, here are three tracks that show off Marcellus Hall’s smartypants roots (he’s also a fantastic illustrator): part Cake’s John McRea and part the Magnetic Fields’ Stephin Merritt. “Resolution (Resolution)” will help you kick off your new year on a reflective note.
The Sweet Hurt
There’s an aspect to The Sweet Hurt’s bio that’s, well, sweetly endearing. After going through the ususal personnel problems that bands have, there emerged an opportunity to play a show that pushed Sweet Hurt founder Wendy Wang “to get the band back together.” So, when I was a kid, I loved The Blues Brothers, especially the car chase scenes, and while The Sweet Hurt sound nothing like Jake and Elwood, I appreciate Wendy’s effort.
The Colour
Groovalicious, danceable rock straight outta the OC. Following in the footsteps of The Killers, The Colour released an EP in the UK through the Lizard King label, and are heading to Nashville early in the new year to start work on their album. I expect you’ll be hearing and seeing plenty from these lads in ’06. You’d have to be colourblind (ouch!) not to notice.
The Spectacular Fantastic
Sean accused me of being a squatter the other day in his Tessitura post, and he’s not wrong. Silly me, I just forgot about these folksy, rocking, old-fashioned easy-to-sing-along-with tracks from The Spectacular Fantastic. With a name as superlative as that one, you’d think it’d be hard to do — anyway, it won’t happen again. Start with “60 Cycles” and “I Love You,” (both from a fully-downloadable EP on the band’s website), then check out “Winter Song” and “You” (from a split single with the previously-mentione Tessitura). Then, in gratitude for all the free music, shell out a few bucks for The Spectacular Fantastic Goes Underground and start singing along yourself.
Forget Cassettes
A swirling, blistering wind blows from down Nashville way… Forget Cassettes toy with a precarious (and ultimately intoxicating) mix of combustible garage rock and precise math rock. As a band, they’re tighter than Jon’s mom’s wig. But what stands out most are Beth Cameron’s agile vocals. Much like the great Polly Harvey — and understand I’m not trying to make a direct comparison here — Cameron’s got character and dynamics to spare. Whether she’s at a whisper or a caterwaul, she’ll suck you in like a tractor beam. Oops, there I go mixing metaphors again. Just listen and figure it out for yourself, okay?
Early Man
Those of you already familiar with Early Man, “two Pentacostalists from Columbus,†might find it strange to hear them called “quaint.†But that’s what comes to my mind when when listening to the monster, and unapologetically analog, riffs blaring out of these digital speakers. The song names could have come from Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, or early Metallica records, and so could the angry guitar and manic drums. The whole thing takes me back to those Halcyon days when my skater friend got me off the Depeche Mode with an interventionist helping of Ride the Lightning. In fact, Early Man are so earnest about their music that listening to them really is infectious, even if they’re telling me to die a slow, horrible death.