Acid trips. Marijuana leaves. Dark rooms illuminated by lava lamps. The New Age book section. Dreadlocks. Grateful Dead posters. Tie-dye shirts. Sun dresses. Birkenstocks. The entire city of Sedona, Arizona. The word "ethereal". People who talk slow. Body odor. Overgrown facial hair. Arthur Magazine. Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle. Incense. That one episode of the Simpsons where Homer eats the Guatemalan chili peppers at the chili cook-off. These are just a few of the things that come to mind when listening to he free-form, psychedelic soundscapes on Naked Acid.
This is such a stoner album that I'm not sure that listening to it sober really gets me to the heart of it. But from a sober standpoint, it's not too shabby. The first three songs work especially well. The aptly named "We Went There" opens the door to the otherworldliness of the album, "Drum Movie" eases you into the new environment, and by the time "Kehaar" comes around, you're completely settled in and enjoying the ride.
Ironically enough, things start to fall apart with the song "Fuck It": a confusing, meandering song that goes nowhere and leaves you frustrated afterward (I'll spare the innuendo). From there, Naked Acid is never quite able to regain it's footing. Perhaps like any relationship built around drugs, you soon realize that there wasn't much substance there to begin with (substances, yes, but not substance). "Fire" sort of begins to pick up the pieces, but only if you're still in the mood to pay attention by that time.
All in all, a decent effort. Though I can't help but imagine how much better it would've been had Valet laid off the hash a little.
Last fall, Lupe Fiasco faced some ire from the rap community after flubbing a performance of an A Tribe Called Quest song during the VH1 Hip Hop Honors show. The event sparked a series of exchanges where Lupe defended his error, while at the same time fueling rumors of a mini-feud between he and A Tribe Called Quest (which Q-Tip quickly squashed). The gist of Lupe's response was:
"I did not grow up on ATCQ....I grew up on gangsta rap..."
Ignoring the fact that his arguments were weak and that doing some research preceding his NATIONALLY TELEVISED (!!!) performance would've been a good idea, I see where he's coming from.
Lupe and I were born a year apart and both grew up in the urban Midwest, and I personally can't recall hearing much of Tribe either, outside of "Scenario". We got plenty of Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg, Ice Cube, Scarface, Tupac, Biggie and TONS of Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, though. Outside of the latter two performers, anything originating in the east was not very prevalent in our neck of the woods. Though A Tribe Called Quest were playing a part in the "golden age" of hip hop, gangsta rap and g-funk were still what the kids wanted to hear in an early to mid-nineties Midwest. Basically, if it wasn't hard it didn't really get played. Apparently some guy named Nas and this group of people calling themselves Wu Tang had released good albums, but we sure as hell didn't hear much about it.
I've yet to find any solid reasons why so many important east coast albums were under the radar where I grew up, though the upside is that I can approach these albums now from almost a blank slate. Despite being unfamiliar to my ears until recently, The Low End Theory still feels nostalgic, like an old friend reminding me of all the good times. Three mentions of the Arsenio Hall Show, a jab on the size of the Winan's family, yes y'allin', girls named Tanya, referring to sex as "knocking boots" as well as the use of other such slang terms that I haven't heard in a decade. Yup, this is pretty much the perfect embodiment of the 90's for those of us who weren't associating with crack dealers but liked listening to the music of those who were.
This is one of many east coast hip hop albums I missed out on the first time around, and there's a lot more to discover. Perhaps Lupe's started to do the same in the past year.
I vaguely remembered Res (pronounced "reese"), though admittedly more for the short boyhood crush I developed for her after seeing the video for "They Say Vision", where hips and cleavage made more of an impression on my teenage mind at the time than the music did. But when I found myself wondering why she seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth, it was the music that was playing in my mind. That song and it's airy, infectious chorus. Thinking back on it, it was pretty different compared to her peers at the time. As my research found, that was part of the problem.
How I Do was released on a major label but suffered from poor marketing and an odd choice of singles, and as a result was forgotten in the highly competitive realm of mainstream music. They didn't know what audience to market her to. It's neo-soul, but not fully. It's kinda rock but not really. The aforementioned "They Say Vision" broke onto the dance charts for a short time, but I wouldn't say that that was a good place for her either. Strange, because it's easy to fathom that this would've been a pretty huge hit if it were released today in a climate where, even if the music is quite terrible, at least the lines that separate genres are a little more blurred, making it easier for acts to cross over and appeal to multiple audiences.
Listening to the first four tracks especially, it's hard to imagine how How I Do managed to fly under the radar. The arrangements are memorable and Res sings confidently over them with decent range. From there, the album does begin to suffer from a couple of throwaway tracks, like "Sittin' Back", that trip up the momentum and make it difficult to recapture the flow of the album's first third. But for the most part it's solid. Take almost any of these tracks, add a guest verse by (insert popular rapper at the time) between the second chorus and hook and you'd have heard a lot more about this.
10 The Hard Way: MF Doom (10 The Hard Way is a feature in which xoxobra compiles a top ten list of whatever he sees fit)
Born Into This, the new and long awaited solo album from MF Doom, should've been in my CD player last Tuesday. It's been three years this month since Doom has released an album full of new material (the Dangerdoom collaboration with Danger Mouse), so of course a lot of people were excited that he was coming out of hiatus. But then there were those of us who considered Doom's erratic behavior as of late (past promises of new material that never saw the light of day; sending imposters to perform on stage in his place; getting called out for such activities by rival rappers) and took the cynical "I'll believe it when I see it" attitude.
Which was smart, because October 21st came and all we had was a statement regarding the album's indefinite delay. Surprise surprise.
Despite my increasing level of annoyance with Doom, I'm still probably going to want to check out any new album he releases, if ever, whatever it's called. In the meantime, though, I thought I'd compile a list of my favorite songs he has recorded under the MF Doom moniker, his most well-known and commonly used. This of course excludes any material he's recorded as Viktor Vaughn, King Geedorah, or Zev Love X as a member of KMD. Check it out, y'all.
10) "Kon Karne" (from Mm...Food)
Capped off by a dedication to his deceased brother DJ Subroc, "Kon Karne" is carried by a typically sick flow and gentle piano keys mixed with a simple 80's beat. Bueno.
9) "A.T.H.F." (from The Mouse & The Mask)
The Mouse & The Mask is admittedly light on standout tracks, but if any one does manage to catch my attention, it's "A.T.H.F.", which has the distinction of being basically the best rap song/commercial I've ever heard. I'm not even particularly a fan of the show but still enjoy this track. Danger Mouse's old-school style hip hop beat really bangs, more or less carrying the track.
8) "Rapp Snitch Knishes" (from Mm...Food)
Featuring a great guest verse from Mr. Fantastik, the biggest appeal of this song lies in it's use of a great electric guitar riff in the beat. Not often do I hear a rap song with rock guitars that I like, but this is an obvious exception.
7) "Rhinestone Cowboy" (from Madvilliany)
Not a cover song (though can you imagine how interesting that would sound?), but a strong album closer so confident in it's success that the applause is built right into the track. More soul than a sock with a hole, indeed.
6) "Dead Bent" (from Operation: Doomsday)
If you're going to use the string section from one of my favorite Isaac Hayes songs ("Walk On By") then you can expect to catch my attention. And when you pull if off so well, you can expect much kudos.
5) "Rainbows" (from Madvilliany)
Possibly the closest thing to a true stoner rap song ever recorded, "Rainbows" is a strange, off-kilter track that seems to have been put together in a druggy haze. The nonsensical lyrics (censored by an orange block in the album liner notes) only add to the songs draw. And the horns. Gotta love the horns.
4) "Who You Think I Am?" (from Operation: Doomsday)
A fantastic group rap track in the vein of "Protect Ya Neck", this one seems to long for the days of old school hip hop and feels every bit as nostalgic.
3) "Curls" (from Madvilliany)
Probably the best beat by Madlib on the entire album complete with another solid verse from Doom. The only thing that holds this song back from higher placement is it's (too short) length. I'm all down for songs not overstaying their welcome, but I wouldn't have minded being spoiled for a little longer by this one.
2) "Potholderz" (from Mm...Food)
Awww shit. Perhaps my favorite song on Mm...Food. The beat is totally laid back and fits both Doom and Count Bass D's solid yet lackadaisical delivery.
1) "Great Day" (from Madvilliany)
None are more deserving of the stop spot. Lyrically, this is about as good as it gets from Doom, who drops some of his most well-known lines in just two and a half minutes of run time. I've seldom been floored by a lyric, but this one did it: "Last wish: I wish I had two more wishes/And I wish they fix the door to the matrix it's mad glitches/Spit so many verses sometime my jaw twitches/One thing this party could use is more...booze." And props to Madlib for being the only person on earth who could turn a 70's commercial jingle into a good rap beat.
Sweden's Dungen is the best psych band to appear since the genre's heyday in the 60's. I'd acknowledge the boldness of that statement, but when you consider their consistency and their competition, it's not such a grand statement at all (and if you disagree with me, I'd really appreciate recommendations for who is better). Hell, I'd argue that calling them the best current psych band is too limiting. Already with one modern classic under their belt this decade in Ta Det Lugnt, 4 is yet another solid release for a band that once again deserves album of the year consideration.
4 is, in a word, stoooooooooooooonned. The lush, hazy sound that the band played with on their previous album, Tio Bitar, returns here. It's a unique sound, rocketing you into the mood of the golden days of the psychedelic era, inducing imagery of smoke-filled rooms with shag carpeting, tacky orange wallpaper, wood paneling, and Eames chairs.
As far as vocals go, singer Gustav Ejstes only bothers with lyrics for half the album, while the remaining songs allow the instruments to speak for themselves. Ordinarily, this sort of back-and-forth format can be distracting, creating a mood where the listener just waits for the typically more interesting vocal tracks to play. Not so with 4. The songs work and blend together nicely, with the more psych pop-oriented tracks fading into in medias res jam sessions. Guitarist Reine Fiske is a true guitar hero, his virtuosic abilities carrying many of the compositions on his back, making the respectable 37-minute album length feel much too brief.
With 4, Dungen have cemented themselves into my personal "Bands/Artists Who Can Do No Wrong" stable. It's an album that should make more than a couple of top ten lists this year. It'll certainly make mine.
The King Khan & BBQ Show - The King Khan & BBQ Show (2005)
During the whole garage rock revival era of the early twenty aughts, many elitists purists scoffed at the labeling of bands like The Strokes or The Vines as garage rock. Having not known jack shit about garage rock, I was not one of those purists. But when listening to this album, it's easy to understand the music nerd outrage. Though they would technically be thrown into the garage rock revival crowd with the rest of the The bands, The King Khan & BBQ Show stay much more true to the original idea of garage rock. Or should I say, seeing as I'm no aficionado, they stay much more true to what my idea of what the original idea of garage rock is. That being: lo-fi, terrible sounding production (as if it were actually recorded in a garage), washed-out guitars, raspy vocals, yet still somehow completely awesome.
And there is much awesomeness indeed. "Waddlin' Around" sounds so much like a hit rock song from the 50's that I'd think that was when it was recorded if I didn't know better. It more than just rocks, it's got soul, like old-school rhythm and blues-style soul. Setting the mood emphatically, King Khan maintain the quality for the entire album, from the surf rock riffage of "Fishfight" or "Bimbo's Theme" to the crooning of "Love You So" or balladry of "Am I The One" or the dancy "Shake Real Low". These songs are so damned old school-sounding you can almost smell McCarthyism in the air when listening to them.
One of the few albums I've heard that benefits from poor production, The King Khan & BBQ Show is pretty much an all killer affair that probably would've suffered slightly (songwriting ability should be taken into account, of course) had they been afforded the cleaner, major label production of their peers. Funny how that works out.
Being one of those damned dirty purists who still buys physical copies of music, I'm always on the lookout for interesting cover art. Sometimes album artwork is so compelling that it garners my interest in the music. Sometimes the art ends up being the best part of the music. And other times, the art is so glaringly bad that it's beyond words. Which is why, today, I bring you this, from little known rapper Big Bear's 1998 album Doin Thangs:
This is one of those things that's so bad that it crosses several lines back and forth to the point where you can't possibly hate it. Like a long lost No Limit Records cover art project, it's so bad that it promotes discussion and analyzation rather than outright dismissal. It's terrible, yet is so matter-of-factly comfortable with how terrible it is, therefore making it appealing.
In your mind you think to bring attention to the hack Photoshopping job: the overabundant lens flairs, the outer glow, the way certain objects are chopped off nonsensically, the lack of necessary apostrophe's. But then you notice how nonchalantly Big Bear sits in the center of it all with a look on his face as if to say, "Yeah, I hang out with bears in a cave feasting in expensive robes while smoking cigars. What of it?", and dammit, you just can't bring yourself to argue with that.
I said that aloud to my fiancee as I we were listening to Untitled in my car. On an album that Nas clearly wanted to be viewed as important (what with the controversy surrounding it's working title, Nigger), packed with hard-hitting social commentary and references to important moments and names in black history ranging from slavery to Barack Obama, it was a little surprising to hear this absurd song personifying black peoples' most well-known culinary stereotype. But then I listened to the album more. And to that song more. And now I feel a little silly saying that my favorite song on Untitled, and album filled with hard-hitting social commentary and references to important moments and names in black history ranging from slavery to Barack Obama, is an absurd song personifying black peoples' most well-known culinary stereotype.
This is not to say that the other songs fail. The simplistic, piano-driven intro, "Queens Get The Money", is probably the album's least over-produced song. Adversely, you have songs like "Make The World Go Round" and "Hero" that scream for radio play, coming complete with current hot pop stars (Chris Brown?) and hot producers. Sometimes the over-production works, such as on the track "N.I.G.G.E.R. (The Slave And The Master)", where the bombastic approach works for the emotion of the song.
Thankfully, Nas is on top of his game lyrically throughout the album, and it's enough to keep your attention on the song topics. It's just a shame that the beat-makers couldn't match him. You'd think that the raw subject matter would call for raw production, yet instead we get 80's synth effects (as on the song "America"). But hey, what do I know? I will, however, give props to DJ Green Lantern for the Tupac sample ("And though it seems heaven sent/We ain't ready to have a black president") on "Black President", because I've been wondering for the last year and a half when someone was going to dig that line up, and frankly was starting to get impatient. Thank you, Mr. Lantern.
Still, I come back to "Fried Chicken". What does this being Untitled's strongest song say about the album as a whole? I feel there's a deeper connection to be made with it that I'm not analyzing properly. So I'll opt for the "it is what it is" philosophy. The passive individuals philosophy of choice. It's the best song just because it's the best song and it doesn't really speak to any underlying meaning. It doesn't require analyzation because the meaning is more obvious than hidden, if there even is a meaning at all. That probably sums up my feelings about this album pretty accurately, actually.
I listen to this album and feel like the ultimate goal should be to promote a deep discussion about black society. One that speaks for a group of people like any good protest album should. Nas does present several issues and talks about them passionately, but in the end I don't feel like any discussion is necessary. Perhaps it's because a lot of the issues here have already been covered before in any number of albums by underground rap artists, or perhaps for some other reasons. But there's no depth to his commentary, so in that sense it kind of fails as a protest album even though it ultimately succeeds as a hip hop album.
I like Untitled more for what it attempts than what it accomplishes. What had the potential to be an eventful album, a What's Going On or It Takes A Nation Of Millions... for a new generation, ends up just being a good album that will probably be overlooked in music history, unfortunately.
Digital Good Time V: Gideon Baws (1975 - 2008) (Digital Good Time is a series in which xoxobra focuses on the visual side of music)
Not to give this blog (or this feature in particular) a morose feel as of late, but I'd be doing a disservice if I failed to acknowledge the recent passing of Gideon Baws, one-forth of the video directing team Shynola. Baws passed away just last week in Los Angeles at the age of 33.
I have a personal attachment to this news because Shynola was one of the first video directors that I got into. They helped me recognize music videos as a legitimate art form, and that expressing a love for both music and visual art can exist in the same media. I still remember the first time I saw the video for Radiohead's "Pyramid Song". I was lazily flipping channels and tuned into it right at the beginning, and about four minutes later my life had changed a little. I'm not exaggerating when I say that. Seeing that video when I did opened up a whole new world for me musically and played no small part in making me into the obsessive music fiend I am today. Otherwise, I'd probably still consider Linkin Park the pinnacle of modern rock.
The second time I found myself utterly floored by a Shynola video was during my first year of college in '02-'03. I was going through the motions at an art school in a major that I no longer had a passion for, when I saw the video for Queens Of The Stone Age's "Go With The Flow", which is to this day one of the finest music videos ever created, in my eyes. Not long after that I changed my major to Visual Effects & Motion Graphics and never looked back, with a goal in mind of one day trying to be even half as awesome as Shynola was.
Shynola of course went onto bigger and better things in recent years, but the impact of the above videos on my direction in life can be equaled by very few. I'll remember Gideon Baws for whatever part, large or small, he played in their creation as a part of Shynola. Condolences to his family and friends, from a fan.
It seems that a lot of heavier bands naturally mellow out as they get older. This, of course, coincides with the typical process of maturing outside of a musical perspective. Young people live in extremes, see things in black and white, and only age brings out that ability to see the gray areas. Understanding this makes me more accepting when formerly heavy bands return with more subtle and/or varied albums (but at the same time makes me less accepting of people who complain and dismiss perfectly good albums just because the band isn't as heavy anymore). In fact, I expect it, and find it a little ridiculous when bands with members well into their 30's continue to stick to the tactic of sheer aggression and energy. It often seems forced and unnatural regardless of (or perhaps especially because of) the band's past efforts.
The central member of Caïna, Andrew Curtis-Brignell, is not yet in his mid-twenties (as is my understanding) and Temporary Antennae is his third full-length in a career that is as many years old, so it's a little more difficult to explain the changes to his sound on this album, which is gradually moving away from being black metal with forays into post-rock and singer/songwriter, to being more post-rock with forays into black metal. You won't find so much as a growl surface in Temporary Antennae until fourteen minutes into the album and have to wait an additional four minutes for a blast beat.
The signature lazy journalistic move to pull when a heavy band mellows out is usually to compare them to Neurosis. And when said band does delve into post-rock, lazy journalists will also name drop Godspeed You! Black Emperor as an influence for those parts. This has to stop. It's as if Neurosis are the only metal band to ever combine the heavier parts their songs with a softer post-rock sound and that Godspeed is the only post-rock band in existence. Don't worry, though, I'm above such lazy journalism.
That being said, the way that Caïna jumps in and out of heavy segments seems to invoke the style of Neurosis Isis. "Willows and Whippoorwills", with it's brooding buildup that eventually gives way to the growls of Curtis-Brignell, would make Steve Von Till Aaron Turner proud. But Caïna do more than enough to separate themselves from other post-metal Isis clones. Take "Larval Door" as an example, though it comes completely out of left-field, especially having followed the crushing "Tobacco Beetle". Caïna's website mentions 80's pop as an influence, but it's somewhat disorienting to have it injected so suddenly into an otherwise dark and foreboding album. "Them Golds And Brass", which manifests into three distinct segments, draws comparisons to Godspee Explosions In The Sky with it's spoken word part in the middle, as well in other areas with it's guitar work similar to that of Efrim Menuck's best moments. *ahem* Of course I meant Munaf Rayani. Munaf Rayani's best moments. Yes.
I suppose my only complaint is with the absence of any acoustic tracks similar to "Constantine The Blind" or "Wormwood Over Albion" from Mourner. On top of being two of the album's best tracks, they added more variety to the music. But that's a minor issue considering that Temporary Antennae still delivers. Mourner was a grower that rewarded and improved with each listen. Temporary Antennae has the same quality, while innovating enough to keep the listener anxious for what they'll bring next. Anyone looking to fill the post-metal void in their lives in 2008 should look no further.
Bach - Complete Sonatas And Partitas For Solo Violin BWV 1001-1006 [Grumiaux] (1993)
So yeah...classical. I'm trying to get into it to the point where I can name names and have favorite artists rather than occasionally accidentally turning to the classical station while I'm trying to find NPR and thinking "Oh, this sounds nice."
I'm on my way, I think. I saw Complete Sonatas And Partitas in a book about music (1000 Recordings To Hear Before You Die) that I was looking at while I was bored at a Barnes & Noble. The writer considered it to be one of his favorites, so I picked it up from the library a few days later. A friend of mine, who knows a thing or two about classical, saw my choice and asked "Oh, you like sonatas and partitas?"
"Um...I, uh...sure?"
Of course I have no idea what sonatas and partitas are exactly. I'd like to say that I've looked it up since then and have studiously researched such topics, but nah. I'd also like to say that I knew how to actually dissect a classical album; point out the impressive parts or highlight exceptional playing, but dammit I'm just not that awesome yet. So I'm going to go ahead and fall back on "Oh, this sounds nice".
Well hey, it really does! I'm not just saying that to say it. Arthur Grumiaux, from what I've read and what I heard here, is a very skilled violinist. There are many times throughout this double album where I swore that I was hearing a group rather than one violinist. But if you're looking for a more in depth reason as to why and what this albums' strengths are, I'm not your guy (try the dude who wrote the aforementioned book). The best I can tell you is that this is the most relaxing album I've heard in a while, perfect for playing in the background while you do schoolwork or act snooty while sitting in your study wearing a monocle and reading your original pressing of Moby Dick which was personally autographed by Melville himself...or whatever people prefer to do when they put on classical music hell I don't know.
I checked out this PrefixMag article about Dr. Dre's long awaited Detox album, and it got me thinking about his now 16-year old classic. As we all know, Dr. Dre's The Chronic is one of the most acclaimed, influential, and respected rap albums of all-time. It's hits were inescapable. It's imitators innumerable. And to this day, Dre can still refer to it's greatness and not come off the least bit cocky or have his statement called into question.
So I listened to the album again, and for no particular reason (boredom), came up with seven major things that someone who had been living in a rock can learn about Dr. Dre if using The Chronic as a reference:
1) Dr. Dre is not very fond of this Easy E character or his associates.
2) People should be especially careful not to upset Dr. Dre or Death Row Records in any way, shape, or form.
3) Snoop Doggy Dogg and Dr. Dre seem to have some sort of obsession with oral and anal sex, and would like to perform these acts with/have these acts performed on them by Easy E and other people who have upset them in the past.
4) It is both like this AND like that. Though it is unclear what "it" refers to exactly and what specifically "this" and "that" are.
5) People admire Dr. Dre. Men like to be associated with him and women desire him sexually.
6) On a related note: Dr. Dre is an incredible lover, but is careful not to fall in love with the women with whom he has relations.
7) Dr. Dre habitually enjoys marijuana.
In short: The Chronic is possibly the only album in existence that could get away with being this damn misogynistic, violent, and lyrically repetitive and still be nothing short of classic. Oh, and if "The Chronic (Intro)" isn't the most memorable rap monologue in existence then I can't imagine what is.
Who out there doesn't enjoy a pleasant, unexpected surprise? No one? LIARS! Well I certainly do, and while listening to Ruder Forms Survive, I got one. I was really digging this record until the third song came on. The first two tracks had established Capricorns' brand of instrumental sludgy post-rock rather powerfully, and I was happily anticipating an album full of more of the same. Then, on "The First Broken Promise", on an album that I believed to be completely instrumental, a familiar voice appears out of the darkness. It's Eugene Robinson.
See, Eugene Robinson is an artist and vocalist that I've made no secret that I quite admire, therefore I'm obviously a huge fan of his band, Oxbow, and pretty much anything that he touches (artistically, that is). So having his unique vocal stylings show up completely unexpectedly on an album that I randomly purchased used was kind of like running into a good friend in a place that you least expected but right where you needed him.
Given my admiration for Robinson, it shouldn't be surprising that this my favorite song on Ruder Forms Survive, but Capricorns aren't exactly slouches without him. As I said, the first two songs, as well as the following four, hit hard, and are excellent works of groovy, sludgy post-rock. Reminds me a little bit of Pelican's old stuff, back when they had balls.
Score: 8/10
"The First Broken Promise (featuring Eugene Robinson)"
Digital Good Time IV (Digital Good Time is a series in which xoxobra focuses on the visual side of music)
There are tons of impressive music videos out there made by talented companies with a big budget to work with, utilizing expensive and complicated software, equipment, and techniques, as well as hundreds of man hours. There are also tons of impressive music videos made by small groups or individuals with nothing but a shoestring budget, loads of creativity, and the free time after your full-time job. "Crown of Age" by the Ettes, created by Andrew Thomas Huang, is one such video.
This video strikes me because it's something I can relate to doing. The production values are obviously low, utilizing nothing but old, unidentifiable film reel clips, crude line animations, and clip art placed on 3D-layers; all topped off with a dust and scratches filter. It's nothing that couldn't be pulled off in a program like After Effects. But the way Huang treats these project assets, the viewer doesn't have the time to think about silly things like production values, and instead only sees what is quite simply a cool music video. Check out Andrew Huang's website for more of his projects. He's building up an impressive body of work so far in his short career and has already made a name for himself. It'll be interesting to see what he comes up with in the future with more tools at his disposal.
Some of these songs are reeeeeeeaal pretty. The others, kinda plain.
Seventh Tree album review, longer version:
Read any pre-release material for this album, and you might've been convinced that it was more of a folk record. The album cover even seems to hint at as much: a picture of Alison Goldfrapp standing in the plains with the dawn sun rising in the background and her wearing a simple white dress (for the sake of convenience, lets ignore the funky pirate hat). It's a fairly stark contrast from, say, Supernature. But once you get past the first song, the excellent "Clowns", the realization becomes pretty clear: this ain't no damn folk record. What it is, though, is a more subdued album in comparison to her last two releases electro-dance pop feel. The songs here compare more closely to the work on her first album. Seventh Tree is more organic, yes, but it isn't exactly folk. Folky at times, perhaps, but not pure folk.
Having established that, there are a few genuinely good songs on this album that achieve a stunning downtempo beauty. Songs like "Some People", "Eat Yourself", and the aforementioned "Clowns" can be a real joy to listen to. The only problem is that they are sandwiched in between a handful of songs that are similar yet nowhere near as striking. They're nice enough, not terrible or annoying, but suffer from being completely forgettable; almost impressive in their unimpressiveness. Which is why this album can best be described as "hit and miss". Even two of the albums' singles, the significantly more poppy "Happiness" and "Caravan Girl", live by that formula, with the former song being the "hit" and the latter failing to make an impression.
Overall, though, this is worth keeping around for a chillout listen every now and then. Just don't expect to be blown away or anything.
Daedelus wants you to get biz-aaaaaayyy. Not in the bedroom though, as the album's title might suggest, but on the dance floor. Which isn't nearly as interesting, but hell, let's just go with it.
While his previous full length, Denies The Days Demise, took the form of a concept album loosely based around the story of Little Nemo, this album seems to be made to resemble a live experience. Most of the album follows a distinct flow where the songs somewhat blend and the tempo changes are gradual from track to track. If I were into dancing, or was a DJ at a dance party, I'd see this album going over well for those who like to bust moves and such. It shares some common aspects with Girl Talk's recent downloadable album Feed the Animals. Yet, unlike that album, Love To Make Music To isn't so much of a hyperspeed, dance-centric mash-up that it can't also be enjoyed in a normal listening environment as well, such as in the car...or say, on your iPod at work in a warehouse-sized building, which is much more common for most (read: me).
There isn't much that could be considered filler on this album, though it does start to lose it's way in the last third or so, where there doesn't seem to be any plan for the songs other than for them to be on the album. While the songs are enjoyable on their own, it is a little disappointing that Daedelus couldn't maintain the flow of the album's first two thirds. Another complaint is that some of the songs seem to lack that trademark Daedelus charm. He's managed to establish a unique sound for himself throughout his career, yet some songs on here seem like they could've been done by any halfway decent electronica artist. But this complaint is probably more relevant to a long time fan than it would be to a newcomer to his music, who wouldn't be able to tell the difference.
Overall, it's a strong release for Daedelus, who continues to be one of the more worthy electronica artists out there.
(Digital Good Time is a series in which xoxobra focuses on the visual side of music)
This post pays tribute to the late Japanese artist Nagi Noda, who passed away last month due to complications from surgery after a traffic accident. She was 34.
Admittedly, I wasn't familiar with Noda until I learned of her death, but after spending some time at her website I discovered a truly unique visual artist with talent ranging from fashion to photography to visual effects. Whether it was music videos, short films, book and album covers, package design, clothing design or...hair hats (?), everything she touched was most definitely unique, to say the least. Here's a small sample of her work, and though there are tons of videos and images that I could've displayed, I've decided to focus primarily on the music related items.
(album cover for Japanese pop star Meg's 2008 single, "Precious")
(2007 video for Japanese singer Yuki's song, "Sentimental Journey")
Though the above video starts slowly, it's really worth your time to watch the entire thing. From the perspective of someone who has studied visual effects, this must have taken an eternity to complete (it utilizes a motion-controlled camera that separately filmed each duplicate). It's a true testament to how a semi-simple idea can be made extraordinary through careful planning and flawless execution.
I've only scratched the surface of Nagi Noda's life and creative output, so please take time to visit Nagi Noda's website, Uchu Country, or just Google her name and prepare to be amazed. Though I hardly knew she, I'm sure the art world will miss her.
Many soundtracks, be it for a movie or a game, fail to garner the same emotion when the listener isn't familiar with the visual element. Therefore, opinions of the music can vary based on ones fondness of the media that the music accompanied. Of course this isn't always the case. I quite enjoyed Curtis Mayfield's Superfly soundtrack though I've never seen the movie in it's entirety (judging by the few parts I have seen here or there, I'm not sure I ever want to see it in it's entirety). But that's Curtis effing Mayfield we're talking about there. Other scores by lesser artists don't always bode as well. Having already seen the modern masterpiece that is There Will Be Blood, it's nearly impossible for me to separate the music from the drama and the gorgeous cinematography that these songs highlighted, so I can only speak hypothetically when I say that I probably would've enjoyed this soundtrack without having seen the movie.
"Prospectors Arrive" is the standout moment by far. I loved the song in the movie and I love it even more coming out of my stereo. The string arrangements here create the most achingly beautiful piece of music I've heard since, well, "Reckoner". Though I hate to bring Radiohead into the mix, I can't help but wonder how much more awesome this song would've been with Thom Yorke's vocals. But as it is, it's still one of the best songs of the year so far. "Henry Plainview" is an intense piece of music, the cello and violins melting together to create a feeling of darkness and uneasiness that accurately defines Daniel Day-Lewis' Oscar-winning character. The last half of the album is pleasing even if no other songs are as commanding as "Prospectors Arrive". The only problem being that they are almost too short to have an immediate impact. At a scant 33 minutes long, the album can come to an end before you know it. That's not to say that the songs are lacking, but I can miss them entirely if I so much as let my mind wander.
Still, there's some pretty powerful music to be found here. An enjoyable listen, I'm sure, even for those who have never seen the film.
Went to see Sigur Rós on Tuesday. For a band that I'd sort of lost confidence in, they were pretty awesome. They played a good mix of songs from all of their albums, including their latest one that I wasn't as impressed with compared to their previous efforts (see my review here). But they fit well within the set list. In fact, one of the better performances of the night was their latest albums' opening track, "Gobbledigook". Members of the opening band, Parachutes, came out with small drums around their waists and provided the consistent drum beat, and the song ended extravagantly with a burst of confetti that showered the front half of the venue so heavily that the musicians on stage were hardly visible. The colorful lighting during the song really added to the atmosphere. It was great. Check out some pictures:
(He does this during "Svefn-g-englar" to provide that ghostly vocal effect in the middle)
(Sigur Rós, with members of Parachutes during "Gobbledigook")
(And two minutes later)
The band appeared for an encore minutes after that performance and ended the show with "Untitled #8" from the ( ) album, which is possibly the most intense song in their catalog, therefore great to end a show on.
I don't go to as many concerts as I used to, so it was nice that one of the few that I've made it to in the last couple of years was worth it, especially considering a couple of concerts I attended earlier this year (Dalek/RJD2 and The Black Keys) were a bust. The crowd around me (and overall) was pretty tolerable throughout, so that was a real bonus. For whatever reason, I've always had my worst concert experiences when there were a ton of hipsters in the audience, and this show certainly wasn't lacking in hipster numbers. But this time, besides having to be subjected to some of the worst haircuts I've ever seen in one building, there was nothing much to complain about.
Circulus - The Lick On The Tip Of An Envelope Yet To Be Sent (2005)
It's embarrassingly easy to dismiss Circulus as a joke when you first hear them. In fact, throughout my first listen to this album, I thought of a number of snarky lines I could use to begin this review, including, but certainly not limited to:
"Imagine a bunch of LARPer's got together and decided to record a theme song for themselves but accidentally started a band in the process..."
"Imagine a group of people were eating at Denny's after the Renaissance Fair and thought to themselves: "There aren't enough flute-based bands out there. We should do something about that"..."
"You know that group of D & D nerds that you went to high school with? Welp, here's what they've been up to lately..."
Then something interesting happens: you start to notice that they're actually good, and it throws a kink in that hilarious review you had in mind that had all but written itself before the album had even ended. The same song that made you laugh when it first started catches your attention later when you realize how beautifully arranged it is. Then you notice that the guitar solo on the next song is excellent. And then another song comes on later that sounds like it came straight out of a 1960's greatest hits collection. Then you start to silently curse Circulus for making themselves so difficult to pin down. It's as if they've come up to you personally, held up a middle finger and said "We care not for thou witty hyperboles, foul miscreant. Be gone." Except you don't get mad and instead start thinking that maybe you really are a foul miscreant. It's all very epiphanous, actually.
Seeing as this is a psychedelic freak-folk album, it would be easy for me to compare The Lick to Comus' eponymous 1971 album, First Utterance. Thankfully, I've never been known for my Puritan work ethic, so that's exactly what I'm going to do. All of the elements are there: the medieval atmosphere. The male/female vocal arrangements. The weird lyrical allegories. Cynics could probably argue that the only significant difference between the two albums is 34 years. With closer inspection, however, it's clear that Circulus is more than just a tribute band. They carve their own niche and have their own sound that, while similar to Comus, is all their own. Which is hard to do in such an obscure genre.
There's a lyric on the song "We Are Long Lost " that says "If we don't believe in fantasy, we are lost". Judging by the general weirdness of this album, along with the pictures in the booklet that show, among other images, the band jollily skipping along an open field in Renaissance outfits, I'd be surprised if this lyric were not directed at Circulus themselves. I couldn't imagine the members of this band existing comfortably in a modern Western world, but as long as they're giving us music like this while trapped in the fantasy world they've created, I'm not going to hate on how they choose to carry out their lives......the friggin' weirdos.
I'm just going to come out and say it: you've changed. You used to be so full of life, full of potential. You were passionate, I liked that about you. But now...you just seem lost. You display the same old traits on the outside, but on the inside, I feel like something isn't right. Sometimes I swear that you're back to your old self, but just as quickly as the old you comes, it leaves again. And frankly, I'm not sure if I can handle a relationship like this anymore.
That's harsh, I know, and I don't mean to sound unsupportive. I wish nothing but the best for you, always. Please remember that. I've heard your new album. People really seem to like it, and I'm glad. Seriously, I'm glad you're reaching people and getting them excited. That's awesome. Not many people have the ability to do that, to do what you do. You should be proud. Hey, I'm proud of you. But deep down, I think you and I both know that your heart's not in it. This is easy for you. It's like you're not even trying anymore; like your fire is gone. What happened to that adventurous attitude you used to exude? The one that made you want to experiment with your art and take risks and push the envelope? I miss that about you.
I think we would both agree that this relationship hasn't been the same since Cookie Mountain. That hurt me, but even though it took me a long time, I was able to forgive you. Still, the relationship became strained, almost forced. I tried to keep reminding myself of the bright spots, like "A Method" or "Dirty Whirl", and it worked well enough for me to actually start looking forward to Dear Science. But when I listened to it, I just knew that it was over. Mentally, I knew that I wasn't going to be capable of sustaining this anymore, holding out hope that we'd be able make things like they used to be.
I tried to focus on the good times again, such as what you did with "Crying". It's really great; sort of like 80's R&B, pre-New Jack Swing era (am I crazy, or do I detect a little inspiration from the Commodore's 'Night Shift"?). Or how about that prog-funk you did with "Red Dress" and the dark gothic post-punk sound of "DLZ"? That's good stuff. I love it when you take risks like that, but everything else just sounds the same as usual. It's like you're so reluctant to leave your comfort zone, even though we usually have the most fun when you do. I need excitement in my life, TVOTR, and though I hate to say it, you've become boring and predictable. Like, what's with the tacked on string section that you used to provide the crescendo for not one, not two, but three different songs!? C'mon! Other indie bands add string sections as a crutch to make their boring music interesting. I thought you were better than that. You used to be better than that.
It's so sad, because even at your worst you're still better than most, yet for some reason you seem so content with aiming low. It's frustrating, because I know that if you really wanted to, you could be one of the most exciting and innovative modern soul/funk/R&B acts to come along in decades. Hell, you could defy classification and be in a genre all your own! I know you can, your first album hinted at that potential. But instead you just settle for being a mediocre indie rock band, and I don't understand why. I just can't bear seeing such talent wasted any longer.
I'm sorry I had to break it to you this way. I'll still keep you in my mind, and still cheer for your victories and successes, of which I'm sure you'll have many more. But it's time for us to move on and go our separate ways. In the end, it will be better for the both of us. Goodbye TVOTR. We had a good run.
(To commemorate the release of TV On The Radio's new album, Dear Science, I've decided to post reviews for their previous two albums to show how I arrived at my opinion of their new release. Below are reviews for Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes and Return To Cookie Mountain. Tomorrow I will post my review for Dear Science.)
TV On The Radio - Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes (2004)
TV On The Radio's debut full-length came at a time weird time for me. Spurred by some disappointing releases by some of my favorite acts (including Interpol's Antics) and the Great Arcade Fire Circle Jerk of 2004, indie rock was becoming a bastion for unoriginal, overhyped acts being praised by publications for simply rehashing previously successful formulas. As Stephen Colbert phrased during his "feud" with the band The Decemberists: "Some indie rock band is ripping off my style. Why can't they be like every other indie rock band and rip off the Pixies?" Of course, it had probably been going on for a while, but it was only around then that I started to take notice. Disillusioned, I started to get into other forms of music and never felt much of a need to look back.
One night I happened to catch the video for "Staring At The Sun", which, I should say, is the exact kind of video that stands out to a tired mind at one in the morning. I had heard of TV On The Radio (as they had garnered some hype for their Young Liars EP and had released Desperate Youth earlier in the year), but considering my newfound disillusionment with the indie scene, I hadn't even bothered to give them a shot. So it came as quite a surprise to me that the song, as well as the video, was fucking excellent. It actually sounded different! It actually sounded fresh! After buying the album soon after, the first song -- with it's horn intro, deep, grimy, repetitive synth loop, and eyebrow raising first line: "Woke up in a magic nigger movie" -- confirmed that this was a band that didn't deserve to be lumped in with their contemporaries.
Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes shines with excellent production from David Sitek, who somehow successfully mixed elements of electronica, psychedelic soul, rock, funk, and even doo-wop, without having the entire thing sound like a cluster. Tunde Adebimpe vocals (complimented by Kip Malone's falsetto) are delivered with the gospel-like passion of a negro spiritual; filled with emotion. TV On The Radio displayed more creativity and variety with this one album than most bands have managed in a career. While the Desperate Youth isn't without it's faults, considering the band's potential, any missteps are easy to overlook.
Score: 8.5/10
"The Wrong Way"
"Ambulance"
TV On The Radio - Return To Cookie Mountain (2006)
Having built quite a reputation for themselves with their explosive live shows, the anticipation was high for TV on the Radio's oddly named sophomore album even though reviews for their debut album were somewhat lukewarm. With the Young Liars EP still on the minds of indie rock fans, a surprising number of people were disappointed with the scattered, experimental nature of their debut full length. So the band regrouped, permanently placed their touring guitarist and drummer on the roster, and set out to record "King Eternal" (one of the more rock oriented songs on their debut) 11 times. The result was Return to Cookie Mountain, and the indie world went ape-shit, catapulting the band to the bittersweet status of indie rock darlings.
Listening to Cookie Mountain, it's hard for me to understand the hype. Their debut managed to sound really new and fresh in a sea of mediocrity, while this one seems as if it's trying to capture that mediocrity so as to get a piece of the increased attention and marketability surrounding indie rock at the time. It still sounds like TV On The Radio, but it sounds like a version of the band that's tired and out of ideas. This is most obviously reflected in lead singer Tunde Adebimpe's voice, which often lacks the passion he displayed on the band's debut. The production seems to try to make up for this by drowning his voice in a sea of white noise and other voices, which include backup vocalist/guitarist Kip Malone as well as the occasional guest, such as Katrina Ford of the band Celebration, and even David Bowie. This backfires, since the voices are layered so closely that you'd need liner notes or prior knowledge to even know on which song the guest was featured.
Another complaint is with the drumming, which seem to be a little too loud in the mix. I've never found myself as annoyed with drumming as I have on some parts of this album, where many songs seems to be dominated by the presence of the drummer. Only on the excellent, drum-driven "A Method" does this work in the bands favor. In fact the song, with it's hum-able, anthem-like melody, manages to be the album's standout track. On many of the tracks, though, I find myself wishing they'd dust off the old drum machine. "A Method" aside, the album isn't a total wash. Adebimpe does have a few inspired moments, particularly in the later tracks "Dirty Whirl" and "Tonight", but at that point it almost seems too little, too late.
Had I not made it obvious, my opinion of this album differs from the general consensus. Luckily, I've found that, among people who consider themselves fans of TV On The Radio, I am not alone. To make a generalization, it seems that if you thought Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes was okay, you'll probably like Return to Cookie Mountain a lot better. It's more focused and more confident, which is probably what you felt was lacking in their debut. If you thought Desperate Youth was great, you'll be disappointed with Cookie Mountain. It sticks to one formula and refuses to stray far from it, making it the opposite of what drew you to their debut.
xoxobra is the selected music related ramblings of yet another self-important blogger attempting to get the word out on more obscure sounds, updated somewhat regularly. Enjoy!
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