It's things like the above (stolen from Judd Apatow's Twitter feed) that make me think I should be much more specific in my iTunes store description.
Speaking of genres, how much come indie types can't come up with good subgenre names? What was the last one? Freak folk? Chillwave? Nobody wants to subdivide, I suppose. Metal fans cleave their medium into tiny slivers, but everything from U2 soundalikes to pure noise is "indie." Mostly this crowd just revives and misapplies terms like "lo-fi" (anything with distorted guitar that's harder than Sufjan Stevens) and "garage" (see prior).
I tried to get Curmudgeon-core (over 35 and reads Terminal Boredom) into the popular lexicon but no one was biting. But I'm making an effort.
The next podcast will be devoted entirely to "mustache punk."
I know a lot of you were probably disappointed by the results of last week's election. However, there are reasons to be cheerful, such as the release of the three albums below. I have confidence that the purchase of all three by all of my readers will be enough to kickstart the economy and leave us in good shape for 2012.
Anticipation for Tyvek's debut album was almost impossibly high. Based on a handful of fantastic singles and a well deserved reputation as an incendiary live act, the band were anointed the great hope of the lo-fi/DIY/garage/punk/whatever-the-fuck-you-want-to-call-it underground.
When their self-titled full-length was finally released in May of last year, disappointment was probably inevitable. Though a fine and adventurous record, some felt the album diluted the white hot intensity of their single with frequent Swell Maps-style song fragments and odd excursions. The consensus seemed to be "it could have been better." It probably didn't help matters that the original lineup was breaking up while the album was being assembled.
Tyvek's second album, Nothing Fits, comes out today on In the Red with all traces of excess excised. In other words, this is the Tyvek album you've been waiting for.
Though chaos is an essential part of Tyvek's approach, here they focus all the clamor and weirdness that sprawled all over their prior LP into their songs. The result is an unrelenting attack. Songs pummel you one after the other, never allowing you to catch your breath. This is not to say Tyvek are a brutal or punishing listen. Far from it, actually. Though they're not especially interested in melody, the band has a unique sense of tunefulness. They know just where to place a sudden stop, timing shift or blast of noise for maximum impact.
We could have a lengthy discussion whether or not punk rock actually exists in 2010. That's a topic for another time. But if you wanted to argue the "pro," Tyvek would be exhibit A. Nothing Fits is a strong contender for album of the year.
Also out today on In The Red is Strychnine Dandelion, the debut album from the Parting Gifts, a new project from Greg Cartwright of Reigning Sound and Coco Hames of the Ettes. Though the album definitely has the loose informal feel of a side project, it's still a blast to listen to. New tunes from a songwriter of Cartwright's magnitude are always welcome and he turns in a couple of gems here. Cartwright has also proven himself the master of unearthing obscure but brilliant Jagger/Richards compositions. The Reigning Sound's cover of "I'd Much Rather Be With The Boys" was one of the highlights of Time Bomb High School. Here the Parting Gifts dust off "(Walking Through the) Sleepy City," which is expertly intoned by Ms. Hames. Just try and listen to this version without smiling. Actually, one could say that about this entire album.
The third Hank IV album, creatively titled III, is also out today on Siltbreeze. Unlike the two records above, I haven't actually heard this one yet as Siltbreeze is not in the habit of playing the promotional copy game. Still, since the Hank IV's prior two platters made my best-of lists for their respective years and since they were possibly the best live band I've seen in the past half decade or so, I'm going to go ahead and recommend this one sight sight unseen (or, more accurately, sound unheard). If it stinks, that's on them, not me.
Update: Just prior to publication of this piece, the Hank IV released a video for the lead off track from III, so I've now heard at least a percentage of the album. It's awesome. Check it out here.
As I mentioned in the post for my latest podcast, the past few weeks have had a slew of noteworthy releases. The sheer quantity has meant that it's been difficult to listen to any single one enough to write a thorough review.
So how about some non-thorough reviews?
The following are a bunch of recordings released this month you might want to check out, each summarized in a single sentence. I've pulled this stunt once before, which I'm mentioning as either a way of admitting I'm repeating myself or trying to get credit, 140 character limit or not, for beating Chris Weingarten and Discographies to the punch.
I'm going to try and give each of these some more listens in near future, despite even more good stuff coming in November. (Oh, Parting Gifts and Reading Rainbow, why you gotta be so good?) When I'm going to have time to listen to each is another issue though it's probable that any of the below are a better soundtrack to the World Series than Buck and McCarver.
Just when you were sick of all the lo-fi poseurs, pretenders and bandwagon jumpers, this slab comes along to remind you that feeling the heat of the flame is a lot better than licking the soot.
Maria Tessa Sciarrano of Her Jazz and WPRB said of this semi-solo debut from the Sleater-Kinney singer/guitarist "I believe this is what a mommyblog would sound like, if it were in musical form," which is too on the nose to comment further.
Cheap TimeFantastic Explanations (and Similar Situations) (In the Red)
Many people whose opinions I respect greatly praised Cheap Time's debut to the heavens though I deemed it merely "good" and I suspect the same will hold true here.
At this point, it's hardly considered an affront to credibility for a band to have their song in a commercial but has there ever been a more explicitly anti-consumerist song used in an advertisement than this?
I suppose it's plausible that Gang of Four thought it conceptually brilliant/deliciously ironic to match a song that poses the question above to a product which actually aims to definitively answer it. It's equally plausible that they simply couldn't pass on getting cut a check for what I assume is a substantial amount of money.
Now that they've taken this step, one has to wonder if there are other songs in the Gang of Four discography available for use in advertisements.
I Found That Axe Essence Rare?
I Can't Believe It's Not Guns Before Butter?
"I Love a Man in Uniform" for the U.S. Armed Services?
(You wouldn't believe how many images of cleavage a Google Image Search of "my cup runneth over" yields. Then again, you might.)
Though you'd never know it from my lack of posts (a fact I'll blame on the MLB playoffs), I've found myself in the enviable conundrum of having a rather large amount of new (and new to me) music grace my ears in the past few weeks. Enviable because much of it is quite good. A conundrum because its quantity means that I'm skipping around from record to record, enjoying most but giving any enough repeated spins to fully process them in a manner that would allow me to write an insightful account for presentation to you, dear reader.
Combine this with my finds from the WFMU Record Fair this past weekend (which will likely dominate my next podcast) and the records sitting on the Ikea Tullsta next to my turntable (still unplayed after weeks or months), and one can see that I'm currently residing in the land o' plenty.
So consider this podcast a cursory sampler of stuff you should give a listen. I'll admit, it's not my best "flowing" podcast but it's still probably more enjoyable than your average CMJ showcase.
When I write "San Francisco punk," most may think of 924 Gilman St scene, ironically both a paragon of anarcho-socialist punk orthodoxy and a breeding ground for future millionaires. Despite this claim to fame, the city by the bay has never really gotten its due as one of the first in America to fully embrace punk.
Given the city's open-mindedness and tolerance of the transgressive, punk rooted in SF early and got weird fast. Locals Crime released their first records before many prominent UK acts such as the Clash and the Jam. Outsider/bizarro rock acts like Chrome and the Residents were operating pre-punk but found both new directions and new audiences thanks to the new wave. The Dead Kennedys became favorites with the hardcore crowd and the Avengers' records garnered some acclaim from the rock press. However, the most interesting punk coming out of San Francisco was from an axis of bands who shared some members and more than a few musical ideas: Flipper, Negative Trend, The Sleepers and Toiling Midgets.
All these bands fused the spirit of experimentalism of the original CBGBs bands and UK post-punk outfits with the more aggressive approach favored by the new breed of punk bands popping up all over the U.S. None received much attention nationally except for Flipper, who toured a bit and got some posthumous recognition when Kurt Cobain sported their t-shirt of Saturday Night Live. Still, Negative Trend had their sole release, a 4 song EP, reissued by Henry Rollins and the Sleepers had a complete discography released in the mid-90s (which is out of print but available cheap). The only one of the bunch whose best work remains buried is Toiling Midgets.
Featuring the unmistakable and inimitable vocals of the Sleepers' Ricky Williams, Toiling Midgets released their debut LP, Sea of Unrest, in 1982. It was reissued on CD briefly in 1994 but quickly fell out of print and is now extremely difficult to find. This is a shame as it's one of the finer slices of U.S. post-punk. The album features many of the sonic motifs of the Sleepers' material, which Jon Savage dubbed "the sound of the unconscious". In some ways, it actually sounds like more of a continuation of the sound of the Sleepers' brilliant debut EP than that band's more muted (if wonderful in its own way) album. As befits a band from San Francisco, Toiling Midgets achieve a nearly psychedelic grace though more in the psychological sense of the word than the musical one. Besides, you'd never mistake the band's pummeling rock for Haight-Ashbury flower power anyway. If you thought that Joy Division were at their best before they went into the studio with Martin Hannett, Sea of Unrest is the record for you.
Following the album's release, Williams quit and the band released a mostly instrumental album the following year before splitting up. They reformed in in 1989 with American Music Club's Mark Eitzel on vocals and released the album Son on Matador, 10 years after their debut. The band appears to be a semi-active concern at this point. There's what appears to be an official MySpace for your perusal.
Though it was reissued on CD, the following rip of Sea of Unrest comes from the original vinyl source as I don't have a copy of the CD. When and if I obtain one, I may replace these MP3s. I've tried my best to remove any surface noise from the recording while leaving the wanted noise of the music intact.
This is a re-post of blog entry from August of last year. I've never done a re-post before but it seems to be pertinent time to update this one for a couple of reasons:
1. The "classic" GBV lineup which this post covers is reuniting for Matador 21 this weekend in Las Vegas with more dates to come.
2. The fine folks at Decrepit Tapes just put together their own playlist of recordings from GBV's 1992-96 lineup. While theirs is a more extensive overview (covering a slightly larger timeframe and albums while this is strictly non-LP), I thought this would make a nice companion piece, despite an overlap of a few songs.
3. Most importantly, the original divShare playlist has crapped out for whatever reason, rendering most of the songs unplayable. I've re-uploaded to fix this.
Enjoy!
As I was putting together my little demi-best of Matador list below, a couple of Guided By Voices 7" releases just missed the cut. During their "lo-fi era," GBV released a steady stream of 7 inches between albums, often containing something like 6 or 7 songs.
One could make the argument that these releases prepped the underground community for the breakthrough of Bee Thousand in a way their prior albums didn't. Guided By Voices may seem like fairly typical indie fare by today's standards but then their sloppy and extremely lo-fi prog-pop was fairly challenging. Indie/punk types may abhor the slick and professional, but GBV seemed to be openly mocking the concept of quality control. New listeners who didn't have the patience or intrepidity to sit through the uneven Vampire on Titus could surely endure a quick spin of a 7" EP and hear the handful of brilliant songs each invariably contained.
These smaller samples were much more digestible examples of the GBV aesthetic: rough fidelity, nonsensical lyrics, brevity, insanely catchy melodies. Of course, there was also the band's, shall we say, idiosyncratic method of choosing songs for release. Wheat and chaff were mixing freely. However, further listens might reveal that Guided By Voices' "throwaway" tunes weren't just filler, but rewarding in their own right. The band may have seemed impenetrable initially, but Pollard and his cohorts' twisted logic soon became readily apparent.
There has yet to be a thorough compilation of all of GBV's 7" material despite that a) they're a band inclined to clear vaults and compile collections and b) those records contained some of their signature songs. The latter assertion is somewhat indisputable as "Shocker In Gloomtown" from the Grand Hour EP and the superior 7" version of "Game of Pricks" are both included on the band's best of collection, Human Amusements at Hourly Rates.
The 15 songs below have been cherry-picked from various GBV 7"s from 1993 to 1995. That Robert Pollard is prolific is no secret but consider this: any artist releasing a batch of songs this strong over a two to three year span would be justly praised as a remarkable talent. Pollard did it while releasing three equally potent full lengths.
A coupe of weeks ago, the website devoted making people who don't really care that much about music appear as though they do issued one of their periodic "listicles." Its purpose, as with all their other lists, is to build canon and inspire debate. Whether you agree or disagree (or vehemently disagree), the mere discussion of their lists solidifies the authority of the source.
It's not for no reason that they are one of the few major websites without a comments section. It's as though they're saying:
You're welcome to have issue with our opinions but you can't air your grievances in our house. Feel free to quarrel with our choices in another public space of your choosing so it appears as though we are the center of universe. And if you could link us, that would be great too.
This particular list was "The Top Tracks of the 1990s," a topic I thought VH1 already covered definitively. Still, there was some anticipation for who would get top honors. Bets were made. I lobbied for Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments' "Negative Guest List" via Twitter and figured Nirvana were "too Rolling Stone" to get break the top 10. (And I was right!) Ultimately, the #1 slot went to a band which recently reunited and thus could possibly repeat the feat when the best of the 2010s list is made. Possibly with the same song, Michael Bolton-style.
I was tempted to make my own counter list. I eventually decided against this, partly because it would be hypocritical to decry these kinds of lists as dumb, arbitrary and ultimately meaningless and then make one of my own. (Not that this stopped me from contradicting myself throughout this piece anyway.) It's also because I'm told my lists are often viewed by readers as "bunch of bands I've never heard of," which makes the task of checking out any of said artists to appear more daunting than it actually is.
That being said, why not just give my unequivocal endorsement to one band? Surely, there's one group of the 90s that's both so criminally underappreciated and undeniably awesome that they deserve an unshared spotlight. And if that group isn't Silkworm, it would have to be Prisonshake.
Cleveland's Prisonshake had been around since 1987 and put out a slew of singles, EPs and a box set (no kidding) before releasing their first "proper" album, The Roaring Third, in 1993. This mammoth record got enough notice to receive a positive appraisal from Spin and inclusion in the Trouser Press Record Guide. However, Prisonshake's sound was more (early) Alice Cooper than Alice in Chains and failed to connect with anyone beyond a small percentage of the indie audience (which, as a whole, was much smaller now that it is today).
This was a pity because the record was simply a monster. It has all the strut, gnarl, grit and grandeur one could possibly want from a rock album. If the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion were the 1990s embodiment of rock n roll trash, Prisonshake equally celebrated this aesthetic but without the detachment. They played it straight and their convictions and sincerity granted them a greater power.
An you don't have to take my word for it. Here's Dusted's Nate Knabel on Prisonshake:
I think Prisonshake is like the axis around which all conversations about rock music should rotate. Like planet earth spinning far and wide in its revolution around the sun (that's what it does, right?), our conversations about rock music can pretty distant from the source. And it's winter right now. Really, I'd just like to tell every band begining with like Arcade Fire (who are just fine I guess) and extending to like Wilco, MGMT, I don't know, the Delta Sprit (and deifnitely Chromeo) to go get fucked. But it's okay, because Prisonshake remains a fixed inextinguishable source of heat. The Roaring Third is the best record of the 1990s.
The Roaring Third's "hit" was "2 Sisters," released separately as a 45. Was it the best song of the 1990s? Well, it was one of the best songs from one of the best albums of the 90s. And it definitely rocks harder than "Gold Soundz."
Now that your appetite is whetted, you can go purchase The Roaring Third from the Scat Records website for mere $10. It's a bargain at twice the price. Prisonshake have many other records available from Scat as well. If you want a quick sample of the rest of their work, Brushback at On Base On An Overthrow is a big Prisonshake fan and has posted many MP3 from their various releases.
But first and foremost, get yourself a copy of The Roaring Third. Your record collection is not of museum quality without it.
Or trying to balance an egg on its end, then smashing it in the name of "controlled chaos."
Or prepping yourself for Hallowe'en by getting out those old Misfits records. (Please keep in mind that when I write "old," I don't mean from the 90s.)
Yes, Autumn and punk rock go together like Social Distortion fans and bad tattoos. Or Social Distortion fans and chain wallets. Or Social Distortion fans and the presumption that this guy was "totally punk" for some reason.
Earlier installments of our series are available here, here, here and here.
I've written previously on the tendency to overvalue records that seem to be bold statements on the zeitgeist at the time of their release. The 2006 album by the Thermals, The Body, The Blood, The Machine, was certainly an example of this. Songs like "Here's Your Future" and "Power Doesn't Run On Nothing" perfectly surmised the frustration and anger of living in George W. Bush's America.
Luckily, it was also the band's strongest musical statement to date. And while the album was justly praised, one couldn't help but feel that this had as much, if not more, to do with its politics as its music.
Rock critics tend to be left-leaning, amateur sociologist types. This has been the case since rockwrite began proper in the 1960s. Most of its proponents were baby boomers suffering from Dylanitis and "committed" to the revolution (man). Far too often, they've been too quick to praise artists who merely reaffirmed their beliefs. Remember when socially conscious, afrocentric minded and rhythmically flaccid hip hop group Arrested Development topped the Pazz & Jop Poll?
The point is that political partisanship is fairly useless in evaluating music and ultimately does listeners a disservice. One need not share Johnny Ramone's worldview to be thrilled by his guitar playing.
In any event, the Thermals' less explicitly political followup, Now We Can See, garnered far less attention. The lack of easy rock crit copy may have been the cause of this but it probably didn't help that it was a noticeably weaker record than its predecessor. The true test comes now with the release of Personal Life. As one might presume from the title, the album stays away from social commentary altogether, focusing instead on introspective themes. Regardless of lyrical content, it's arguably a stronger and more consistent album than The Body, The Blood, The Machine. If Personal Life is not deemed to be of equal value, it may force one to wonder if the Tea Partiers are right about the liberal media.*
Personal Life is streaming in its entirety at the NPR website. (More of that darn liberal media!) You should give it a listen. You should also check out this video the band made for "I Don't Believe You" which stars Sleater-Kinney's Carrie Brownstein. I believe it's a tribute to the final scene in Francis Ford Coppola's The Conversation. If you haven't seen that fine film, I apologize for the semi-spoiler.
*For the record, they're not right about anything.
This podcast was more or less ready to be posted yesterday. However, yesterday was the first of the month. In addition to me scrambling to make the rent, it was the designating release date for the Pod F. Tompkast, which, as the more clever among you may have deduced, is the new podcast from comedian Paul F. Tompkins.
Mr. Tompkins has produced two podcasts thus far. He already has, at press time, 363 ratings and 18 pages worth of reviews. Meanwhile, I've done about 45 podcasts and have 7 ratings and exactly one review. On the other hand, my ratings average out to a perfect score of 5 five stars, whereas Mr. Tompkins' average rating is a measly 4 and a half. Take that, infinitely more successful person!
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