Welcome to another installment on Ska Saturday, or, as those rude girls and boys call it, Skaturday! I’m in New York City right now, and I just can’t help but think of the great ska that has come out of this city: the Toasters, the Scofflaws, the Boilers, NY Citizens, Steady Ernest, Too True, the Slackers, and many others that I won’t list here. So join with me in enjoying the Slackers as I stroll the streets of New York.
The Dears
On a recent day off, I took my wife’s truck in for a transmission flush. While checking in, the service guy neglected to mention that the entire staff took a whole hour off for lunch, which started about ten minutes after I arrived. In other words, I had serious time on my hands. I flipped through an issue of Spin, then Scientific American, People, Jet, Field and Stream and Redbook before returning to the single copy of Spin because, why not? What else was I going to do? Upon this closer, maybe even desperate inspection of the issue, I noticed a blurb on Montreal that mentioned The Dears, and they sounded pretty cool. Little did I know that a random collection of their MP3s, gathered off a smattering of label websites, would reflect my experiences at the auto shop so perfectly. There’s the smoldering righteous indignation of “Summer of Protest,” the hope and determination of “We Can Have It,” the bitter loss of said hope in “Heartless Romantic,” and finally, the goofy, bouncy happiness of “Corduroy Boy,” also known (in my mind) as “Yeah, I Got the Damn Truck Back!”
The Killingtons
My friend Neal, an extreme-snowboarding pediatrician who also has a Ph.D. in Chemistry, is a big fan of The Killingtons. I can imagine him jumping off a helicopter somewhere in the Cascades or Rockies and carving heroically down the face of a mountain in order to set a broken bone or maybe perform a needed kidney transplant on a young child, who also happens to be snowboarding on the mountain, or maybe he’d just take some tissue samples so he could do some sciencey thing with them like look at them through a microscope. Whatever. Anyway, on his way down, Neal would surely listen to the steady adrenaline of “Weekend Drive” off The Killingtons’ California Life EP. Wait, in that case, maybe it should be Mammoth or Mt. Shasta…
Printed Circuit
Can there be a better name than Printed Circuit for an electronic band? Casio keyboards, Nintendos, the Space Shuttles, Commodore 64s, Sean’s iPod, Ataris, even the new Mac mini — they’ve all got printed circuit boards. But don’t think Printed Circuit lacks a soul; au contraire, Claire Broadley of Leeds, who is Printed Circuit (and Catmobile Records), has a soul of pure pop. She just expresses it through silicon and transistors and electrons.
The Essex Green
Hopefully you were familiar with the musical offerings of Merge Records before hearing The Arcade Fire. If not, I hope you’ve done some due diligence since. The Long Goodbye, released in 2003, from The Essex Green is among the many gems in the Merge catalog. Largely underappreciated by the press, public, and perhaps even their label, songs like “The Late Great Cassiopia” alone are worth 10x the current download pricing standard of 99 cents. Thanks to the generosity of the artist however, you pay nothing. Appreciate it!
The One A.M. Radio
“Why, this singer/songwriter has the proud bearing and glossy coat of a Yale man.” Sorry, couldn’t resist. Yes, Hrishikesh Hirway (you’d change your name to The One A.M. Radio, too) is a Yalie, but far more important to this crowd, I reckon, are his whisper-quiet ballads which fingerpluck their way to your heart — not unlike those of Iron and Wine. If you find yourself wishing for just a bit more glitch to go with that guitar, check out On the Shore of the Wide World, which features The One A.M. Radio remixed by offbeat maestros Daedelus, Alias, and Caural, and holds weight on its own. (Thanks, Jeff, for dropping this in the suggestion box.)
The Hentchmen
The Hentchmen seem like they’ve been on the Detroit garage-rock scene forever, and in band-years, they have. Twelve years or so as a butt-shaking rock and roll trio must equal about sixty years in real-person life. Anyway, age sure doesn’t slow them down on Form Follows Function, their recent ’60s rock-flavored release. Check out “Love” for a little of the nth degree.
Man Man
If you’ve ever been hitchhiking along a muddy country road in the middle of nowhere and been picked up by a beater Econoline van filled with career carnival professionals (and their children) who entertain you the remainder of your journey with their song and lore, Man Man should sound pretty familiar. If you haven’t…well, you haven’t really lived, have you?
The Occasion
The subdued, swaggering basslines and organ expanses you’ll find from The Occasion will probably bring plenty of comparisons to mind. The one that lights up most in my own noggin is The Doors. They may be more wallflower than life of the party, and their noir melodies may make you want to look over your shoulder rather than to the sky, but these cloudy-headed dudes can still ride on the storm without getting the least bit wet.
The Same Fate
I like to look at local bands for 3hive, and usually that means Detroit acts. The Same Fate are even more local than that; guitar player Joe used to sleep in the back of my Creative Writing class a few years ago. He’s spent his time since wisely, skipping classes at the University of Michigan, playing gigs for ten people, and crafting gems like “The Last Flight of the Fireflies,” the most frequently played track on the family iPod.