Also Here...

Writing more long-form reviews here.

Over Here

I've moved!

C'mon

New song - solo acoustic and vocal, recorded to Logic 7/26. Enjoy.

Come On.mp3 - Soft Pyramids

Place Yr Bets

Finally got to putting something else together. Obviously not the best song ever, and there's some flaws, but I'm pretty happy with it...

7-15-08

Finally had a chance to work in this new MacBook a bit. Hopefully there'll be more to come, and hopefully not as much a rip of Tim Hecker next time...

Post 187

So, I'm not going to do a 2007 list. Seems kind of pointless at this juncture, I still like a lot of the albums, and lists are kind of goofy in nature, anyhow. Plus my life is getting busier and more complicated by the minute anyways.

So after 187 posts, I'd like for you to turn your attention to Pinko Flamingo where I'll be doing the majority of posting forthwith. Feel free to check in here, but I'll be writing most my stuff there. Thanks!

-B

Down to 60. Tough stuff. Couple of notes:

First, I forgot how damn good this Feist record is. I mean, it's kind of gotten tons of rubbernecking bloggers backlashing the crap out of it. Be aware -- to discount a record because it's available in Starbucks and in an iPod commercial makes no sense. She's got a beautiful voice, writes great songs and has created a great sense of space in her songs. In no way is this record pedestrian.

Second, the Klaxons. For a bunch of young Brit kids riding a mountain of hype, they put together a pretty great little rock record. Yeah, it's got missteps that any underdeveloped young band might have, but "Golden Skans", "Gravity's Rainbow" and "Atlantis to Interzone" still sound good half a year or so later and hit on a fun wordy and jumpy rock sound. (Not on the list anymore.)

Third, Enon's Grass Geysers...Carbon Clouds is pretty excellent. I missed this band the last couple of years. John Schmersal is a fantastic songwriter. They've stripped all the fancy yet inconsequential electronics focusing on their core guitar-bass-drums line up. Suits them very well. Also good to see that even though they're getting older they still pick up steam and jitter like hottwired teens.

Finally, No Age. Yes, really great.

So, I've whittled the who-gives-a-shit best album list down to 76. I'm trying to get into the 20 range, but that's some tough stuff. I've already eliminated Freeway, Sloan, Jesu and Pig Destroyer -- all who had some great records this year worth your attention. Not sure why I'm even concerned about this though as there's already been 20+ that I've seen for '07 and every one of them has Arcade Fire, Radiohead and/or LCD in the top spot. Whatever. Hopefully it might be entertaining or worth something when it pops up in this space.

Also, some news to come about more frequent writing. Stay tuned...

Prism of Eternal Now

From a post on Wikipedia referencing Adam Forkner's new White Rainbow album, Prism of Eternal Now:

Prism Of Eternal Now is the most recent album by ambient/soundscape artist White Rainbow. Unlike Sky Drips Drifts, this album is not one continuous track, but rather a collection of shorter works that show the more recent loop-based phase of White Rainbow's music. Also, unlike ZOME, the album has no title tracks, extended songs, or words for vocals. The back cover of the disc is not unlike the label of Dr. Bronner's Peppermint soap, inasmuch as it is an almost solid block of text on a pink background (or a white block for some variation). A picture of Adam Forkner appears on the back, tucked away in the bottom right hand corner, which again marks a difference from other albums where Forkner's face never appeared. The text itself is all about the supposed healing powers of the music contained on the disc, and includes instructions on how to use the album as a method of self-healing, the benefits of Prism Of Eternal Now, and exhorts the buyer to not rip it into mp3 due to reduced bitrate. A block of text identifies the gear list (":::::ONLY THE FINEST GRADE:::::"), which includes phasers, guitars, delays, synthesizers, breath, jug, tabla, and a mysterious "etc". Another block has the track listing, and the third block of white has an explanation of the album title and "vibrational energy" contained therein.

Whoever wrote the above paragraph takes this album way too seriously, or found the perfect excuse to wave his dick around.

Gotta love the internet.

We Are Floating In Space...

Ladies and gentlemen, I've been trying to decide where to take this whole backlog and move it into the future (like Steve Miller?). Seems a little unsure at the time. I have time, if I choose to use it: just can't seem to figure what to write about and whether that opinion/criticism is worth adding to the constant babble of the internet. After all, it's hard to disagree with Jess Harvell's points -- am I adding to discourse or just making noise by hitting the repeat button? But maybe we can make this worthwhile after all. For a dude that loves black metal so much, John Darnielle sure is an optimist.

And, for the record, I kind of like "I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance", in the same way that I liked Yellow Pills -- a record by perfunctory young adults overwhelmed by the need to make disposable, time-capsuled pop music. (I haven't heard the rest, and am apathetic about it to be honest.)

Also: know what's funny? I don't think anyone remembers In Rainbows and that shit was 3 weeks ago.

Foos

I know it's not very indie of me, but the breakdown + exploding background makes the hair stand up on my arms. This song kicks ass.

Foo Fighters - The Pretender (Video Premiere)
Uploaded by Alisvideo

My new best friend...

Just got a pair of these Sennheiser HD 595 cans above. Gotta say, I thought that money headphones were BS and all the things I was reading were all viral marketing. Not so. I can't speak for the other 5000 competitors to these (I'm sure some are better, whatever), but it's literally like someone wiped a layer of grime off of all my music. It's pretty hard to listen to Zep right now and not want to raise a lighter hearing Jimmy Page picking like a madman and every sweetly recorded Bonzo snare and tom.

"Great For College Campuses and Abroad"

I'm having a bit of trouble getting back into this. Every post I start begins "ever since I was young" or some goofball generalization. Sorry. Quality control - at least for the first couple since my last one.

See you soon?

Yeah, it's been a while. Soon I'll be back with something more, but I'm alive.

In the meantime, UGK's new one, Kanye's new one, and Scarface's old one are all amazing. And that's just recent hip-hop discoveries.

G: Goo, by Sonic Youth

Seventh grade for most people is super-awkward. I was no different. While it’s tough to remember perfectly, I do recall it junior high to be a greatly uncomfortable time. And yeah, looking back on it, I was a huge herb. Sixth was cool: I wasn’t sexually aware yet, They Might Be Giants were my favorite band, I had my little brother do somersaults for my “Bring Your Pet to School Day”.

But seventh sticks out. Girls started getting boobs, voices started cracking, unwilling things started happening downstairs. (Sample thought: “Please Mrs. Hall, don’t don’t DON’T call on me to come to the board. Damn my pants are tight.”) Adding insult to injury, one of our gym teachers made a group of us come up with a choreographed dance to a song of our choice. Seriously. You imagine what that can do to a little guy’s self-esteem when he has to get in front of a group of his peers (read: girls) and dance. At the time, I was way into Nirvana and some of the bands that Kurt liked, including Sonic Youth. My friend Kenny started me and my buddies on them and Goo was pretty cool to me with its terrifying feedback squalls and occasional hot-chick vocals. Long story short, Kenny, my future high school bandmate Layton, and I did the hand jive (no shit) to “Mary-Christ”. It’s the first thing I think about every time I hear Goo, something so ingrained and irrepressible, no matter what I could have hoped to do. I just picture myself red-faced with the song blasting over the shitty gymnasium speakers adding another layer of weird grime due to the echo and a crusty tape dub. (I should note that I stopped listening to Goo until senior year in high-school out of sheer embarrassment every time I heard it. Yeah, I’m a wimp, I know.)

Listening back now, it’s not all that hard to see why an inexperienced, Nirvana-loving teenager would like a band like Sonic Youth, particularly Dirty and Goo’s version. The songs here are skewed pop, angry enough to communicate on that level, groovy enough to make the listener feel cool and arranged in a way that made the kid dreamer think this type of thing might be possible even with his untalented self. The songs can be punky (“Titanium Expose”), aggressive (the second half of “Dirty Boots”) and definitely hip (“Kool Thing”), all things that angst-y suburbanites want in music as a replacement for their dull, monotone lives. I guess being honest, it’s kind of what I still want from music every once and a while.

On a grander scale, while it never hit the wide range audience that it was supposed to, SY’s Goo still stands tall as an accessible moment in a sometimes impenetrable and difficult discography. Goo is something of a leaping point for getting into high art-rock and the avant-garde due to its feedback swirls and hardscrabble noise elements tempered by grunge-era melody. And if it isn’t for you, well – just play it for your pimply 13-year old cousin with the Staind t-shirt. Maybe they’ll understand.

F: From Here We Go Sublime, by The Field

From the first icy cool bass drum and oxygen deprived vocal snippet that graces From Here We Go Sublime, it’s clear that minimalism is at play here. I’m going to take that a step further and be honest: minimalism in house, (tech-house, whatever) in and of itself, is flat out boring. Electronic dance music was made for ecstatic moments. So when close to the 2:00 mark during this record, a weird vocal breakdown plus wave-em-like-you-just-don’t-care synth starts pumping, it’s damn near perfect. You have the backbone of minimal house, with its well sculpted drums and the flamboyance of regular old dance music in all its neon glory.

The Field is one Axel Willner, a man I wouldn’t know from any other at your local American Apparel store (serious, look up at that dude’s picture), but it’s obvious he’s cribbed some notes from melancholy pop music over the last 40 or so years. Not in a while have I heard a vocal-less album that’s so lyrical. If fact, the repetition of the tracks prove to be the best thing going, pushing (not pounding) the sunwashed melodies into your head. There’s one influence in My Bloody Valentine that has only been nodded at in his composition, not blatantly ripped off like so many other guitar-based bands. The Field does Sheilds and co. justice by convoluting comforting melody in unique and off-kilter ways forcing you to pay attention yet still find it familiar.

Between Willner and Gui Borrato’s Chromophobia minimal house producers are finally realizing that tech-house doesn’t have to undermine melody, structure and composition and relegate itself to the background of the lounge part of some megaclub. To paraphrase Brian Eno, this has the potential to be background music, but you’ll find yourself unable to not pay attention. And if you still aren’t, there’s no way that during the ear-splitting moment halfway into “The Deal” you won’t start shaking your legs and nodding your head crazy like. Shit, the first time I listened to this I think confetti exploded out of my ears.

...

Yeah, I've been gone for a few days/weeks. Been busy: ran a 10-mile race, had a fiancee finish year 2 of law school, been in and out of NYC twice in the last two days. But yeah, I promise that I'm making an effort to write more, even with an irregular schedule. See you soon.

E: "Everybody Thinks I'm A Raincloud (When I'm Not Around)"

Kicking off their last album, Guided By Voices have pretty much everyone’s highest expectations to live up to. It’s fitting then that it’s one of those perfect, mid-fi Bob Pollard tunes that doesn’t smack you in the face, but slowly, deliberately makes you reach for and raise your lighter. Everything’s intact here: jangly guitars, Who worship, well enunciated lyrics, that slight yet fake British lilt, and a handful of powerchords. If there was a more perfect band for raising your glass to the erasing of bad memories, being awesome for one night only, and power of rock and roll I don’t know them. It doesn’t matter that Bobby and co. made this song about (literally) 3,000 times. It just matters that this at this particular moment GBV proved rock music could be perfected.

D: The Dismemberment Plan, Live at the Black Cat, April 27, 2007

Coming up on the start of the show, there was a peculiar calm over the Black Cat that I’m unfamiliar with. Most concerts I’ve seen where there’s a high level of anticipation, it’s like the roof on the venue is about to blow off. People can barely contain themselves, sporadic shouts pepper the atmosphere. Last Friday, the Black Cat was seriously tame compared to, shoot, the Lightning Bolt show I saw on Wednesday of that week. It could be any number of things, but my money’s on an overall sense of disbelief. We haven’t seen this band in (we’ll be generous) five years. Holy shit! After J. Robbins’ gracious speech and explanation for the (unfortunate) reason that we were really all there, they stalked out, all kinda doing the coy smiling thing. Holy shit! And just like old times: “Hi we’re the Dismemberment Plan from Washington D.C.”

Without sounding like a day had gone by since their last show, they struck right off into Emergency & I’s palate-cleanser “A Life of Possibilities”. No one forgot the words. Just like old times, some people were jumping around, some people were emo-ed out, crying every word, some people were standing with arms folded taking it in, and some were just grinning ear to ear. I couldn’t help being all of those, probably all in the course of one song, multiple times throughout the night. I felt like a teenager again: they were again saying everything that I wanted to say but way better and more loquaciously.

The Plan hit pretty much everything that a fan would expect -- “Doing the Standing Still”, “What Do You Want Me to Say?”, “OK Joke’s Over” (with Beyonce interlude, yeah!), “You Are Invited”, “Following Through”, “Gyroscope”, “The Dismemberment Plan Gets Rich” – and some of what you wouldn’t – “Girl O’Clock” (a personal favorite), “Ellen and Ben”, “Rusty”. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I (very) slightly disappointed, like I had seen it better. And I had -- the first time. I had never seen a band that unique before and I was awestruck, soaked from too much dancing, and ecstatic. Friday’s concert was my 7^th time, I’ve grown up a little, and I’d moved on to different things. That’s not to say that it wasn’t good, I was just pining for those first couple of times when it was just so insane that I could barely contain myself.

Still – virtually every song was met with fans shouting every word, there was an erotic cake, there were the requisite d-bags yelling for songs no one likes including them (but they’re on the first album, bro). It was a riot. After their set, which seemed to fly by too quickly, they came back for the encore playing “Sentimental Man” and their best song ever ever ever “The City”. I sat there swaying, happy as shit thinking, after all, the night was perfect. Ready to turn around and leave, they stuck around for one more song, “Onward, Fat Girl!”. It summed up the night for me: a set that sent me on a course headed for starry-eyed nostalgia, only to right me right at the end and slap me in the face to say that, yeah, things end. Particularly not the way you expect or maybe even want them to.