Thursday, December 31, 2009

the year in music: The Hazards of Love

The Decemberists The Hazards of Love

The Hazards of Love is the nerdiest thing I’ve ever heard. Think about it—it’s a prog-folk concept album inhabited by folklore characters and their salacious trials and tribulations. There’s even a fucking “Forest Queen” for god’s sake!

Perhaps this explains why the indie elite poorly received the record. It certainly isn’t “cool”. Yet I feel The Hazards of Love rightfully deserves a place at the table with some of the “hipper” inclusions on my list.

Hazards is, without a doubt, a pitch-perfect concept album, with melodic and lyrical themes threaded seamlessly throughout, a seamless ebb and flow, and all the trademarks of the Decemberists’ back catalogue mingling with some lovely surprises. It is so assured of itself, so meticulous in its construction, and, above all else, so massive in its sound. Even its connective tissue is staggering—the ominous twenty-nine seconds of “The Queen’s Approach” never ceases to give me goosebumps, as it segues perfectly into the dreamy romanticism of “Isn’t It a Lovely Night?”

The inclusion of Ladies Diamond, both Becky Stark of Lavender Diamond and Shara Worden of My Brightest Diamond, was one of the smartest decisions imaginable for a record of this scope. Stark’s ethereal folksiness contrasts brilliantly with Worden’s fucking massive bazooka of a voice, (beautifully cast as the aforementioned icy “Forest Queen”). Worden, quite simply, steals the show, elevating the album to legendary status; she makes what might have just been a great Decemberists record, to a simply great record.

While Colin Meloy has previously used his hyperliterate voice in the Decemberists to craft pop songs into short stories, The Hazards of Love is his novel. And while it may have been blackballed from the indie-rock intelligentsia, (and fuck them—they’re no fun anyway) the rest of us can explore a truly remarkable album, and bask in its pretentiousness without pretension.

the year in music: Bromst

Dan Deacon Bromst

I never got Dan Deacon before. I couldn’t get past the Woody Woodpecker samples, the tingy midi-controlling, the mind-numbing speed and cracked out joy of his earlier works. “But ‘Wham City’ is great, Chris, you really need to hear that one!” “No, you need to see him live!” “No, really, Chris, you have to throw it on a party to get it, any place with lots of people.”

I’d only ever listened to him alone. I had never listened to Dan Deacon with other people.

Devin bought Bromst during Spring Break, the week it came out. I had heard it prior, and found myself oddly moved by it. From an objective musical perspective, I could understand the dynamics of what he was doing, the nuance in his orchestration (now with live instrumentation), the creative shifts in mood he had begun experimenting with on this record. In particular, “Wet Wings” was truly something to behold.

Devin intended to just drive me back to my house. We’d just shared a beer and a half at his place in Northeast, and spent the time discussing our futures, the nature of artists in society, our fears, our doubts, as well as our hopes. The album played, and we just kept driving. We had reached my neighborhood—“eh, keep going, I got time,” I said.

We detoured through suburbia, during the first few tracks of Bromst, continually getting sidetracked, always saying I’d be back in a little bit. Hills rose and fell, and I knew we were running short on time, but it certainly didn’t register. As far as time was concerned, we were exploring our pasts, the endless expanses we had grown up in, and out of.

We said nothing. We drove up a hill. He put the car in neutral. We said nothing. He took his foot off the pedals and his hands off the steering wheel. We shook the car forward. As “Snookered” reached its peak, we rode the hill, like a longboard, or a roller coaster. Though there was a brief swell of panic in my stomach, it subsided. I trusted the hill. I trusted this moment. At the bottom of the hill was the single ting of a glockenspiel.

We said nothing. We didn’t have to.

Bromst is a social listening experience, one designed to share and be shared. It will always remind me of this drive, and the joy of just letting go.

the year in music: One Nation Under Chilly Willy

Chilly Willy One Nation Under Chilly Willy

On my birthday, I received an unexpected surprise—Will Mehigan released two brand new Chilly Willy albums for free online, one, a mashup dance mix, the other, a collection of original dance tunes. While The Mystical Adventures is a truly great addition to Mehigan’s ever-growing discography, One Nation Under Chilly Willy is, admittedly, the one that made my year.

One Nation is, simply put, a record containing the entire recent history of pop music, seamlessly intertwined with itself. And while this has been done before by countless DJs, it has never been done quite like this. Mehigan gives relevance to overlooked songs, credibility to demonized songs, and exudes a youthful exuberance and confidence unparalleled by his contemporaries.

Rather than create cognitive dissonance, Mehigan weaves these vastly different songs together in a new marriage of style and substance that is at once cohesive and jarring enough to keep listeners until the very end. The use of dynamics on One Nation is a welcome improvement from past mashups of his, now creating a sense of drama juxtaposed with playfulness—an epic scope to booty-shakin’ music. And, even more impressive, neither mode overstays its welcome.

While it does not always work, the moments that do are both completely absurd and, quite simply, earthshatteringly awesome. Take, for instance, the point in “Back It Up” where a deconstructed, stuttering “Ziggy Stardust” backs up “Get Low”. Or when Ratatat shuffles underneath Shakira. Or when the signature drum thump of “Song 2” and the horns of a Chicago song [almost] legitimize Katy Perry’s whirlwind bi-curiosity. And who else would have the balls to defuse Ice Cube’s snarl (“Life ain’t nothin’ but bitches and money!”) to that of a chipmunk over a song from High School Musical? The highlights are innumerable and would be difficult and pointless to try and list—I will just say that, as amazing as 2009 was for “original” music, there were few albums that I listened to as much as One Nation this year.

With these two records, Mehigan is proving himself to be fearless, and it seems to come not from an ultrahip and ironic perspective, as many might expect. While much of it may come from “wouldn’t it be funny if…” experimentation, this assuredness seems to come from a very clear and wholesome love of music—all music—that allows him to be an undiscriminating listener, not bound to trends, scenes or genres.

And as a result, Mehigan is an odd, versatile, and brilliant talent.

the year in music: Logos

Atlas Sound Logos

Logos offered me a much needed autumn, a hazy come-down from the illustrious highs of summer, something to Fall into in the midst of some serious tragedies. The first singles "Walkabout" and "Sheila" carried me through the cold months in Colorado. Both are guiltless and sweet, and each warmed me up, encouraging me to keep walking. It was the soundtrack for bus rides through October snow, it swirled through the cold November sun and skeletal trees, and it filled my room through December. The more I explore it, the more I find, the more I hear.

It may be a personal inclusion, but Logos is undeniably inventive and great. Bradford Cox really studies the music he loves, and it shows. Atlas Sound is not the most original band in the world, but there is a great care in which Cox pulls apart his influences, both modern and classic, to understand them. And when he puts them back together, it comes out like this.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

the year in music: Merriweather Post Pavillion

Animal Collective Merriweather Post Pavillion

“If I could just leave my body for a night…”

Yes, Merriweather Post Pavillion made a strong first impression. It is one of those records that unified a whole scene, making a profound impact on its foundations. It is one of those records that caused a collective gasp throughout music publications, aficionados and casual listeners alike. It stunned other musicians existing the same world, leaving indelible marks on the band’s contemporaries. People wouldn’t just play it at parties, they would talk about it at parties—and your credibility as a listener became inexplicably (and unfortunately) tied to your relationship with it. It’s already inspired hundreds of hipsters to pick up a synth, a sampler and a floor tom and start making noise (for better or for worse). It is one of those records where time is divided from before you first heard it and after.

Yes, it was overhyped, yes, it was overexposed, and yes, after awhile, the fervor surrounding it became unbearable. Not that I’m helping matters…

But then you actually listened to it. And you cried. And you danced. And it was a part of your world.


Monday, July 14, 2008

number three. 1970s punk rock

mix number three. the beginning of punk rock at the end of the 1970s.

Punk, as a musical genre, as a fashion movement, as a way of life, put the power in the hands of those a part of it. It was an entirely self-sustaining culture, run on the hope for and practice of abrasive change in music, art, fashion, politics and thinking. Punk shook the world to its core, and regardless of whether or not you like it, it paved the way for everything that has followed.

Punk is the reason why any kid with a guitar can record songs and have an audience for it. Punk made music free and independent again, aggressive and dangerous, invigorating and exciting.

Punk seemed to just happen, without any warning. Here it was in New York City, around the same time it cropped up in Australia, and in London, and in the Pacific Northwest, and, of course, in Southern California. It was on the tip of everyone's tongue, and the pioneers screamed it in unison with one another.

It was a moment in time, one that has unfortunately passed, one left undefined, but terribly damaged in desperate attempts to do so. As it became more and more about how many studs one puts on their leather jacket, how high one's mohawk can be, how well-versed one was in what was acceptable within the culture (and how hard one rallied against "sell-out" traitors to their cause), the meaning was lost.

Fortunately, the meaning can be found within the following songs, as well as countless others; the short bursts of raw power and snotty energy gave the metaphorical middle-finger to everything that came before. It was intelligent, as it was primitive. It was orchestrated, it was chaos. 

But above all else, it was what it was.

We all know The Clash, The Ramones, and the Sex Pistols. A document of every great band from this era would be impossible for one lone blogger to compile. 

At the very least, here are some of the other songs and artists that made it happen.

1. Richard Hell & The Voidoids - "Liars Beware"
Richard Hell became famous as "the first poet of Punk", and the wordplay present in this frenetic song is no exception. Here, a swell of guitars leads to angular riffs, propulsive drums and a perfect punk piece that takes no prisoners.

2. Gang of Four - "Natural's Not In It"
Currently known as the theme song to Sofia Coppola's kinda-period-film, Marie Antoinette, Gang of Four's "Natural's Not In It" uses a stuttering beat with staccato guitar riffs and kickass bass line to rally against vice and decadence in the upper class. As the refrain goes: "This heaven gives me migrane."

3. Neon Boys - "Time"
Another Richard Hell-helmed project that predates The Voidoids, "Time" finds itself in a similar place of the bands that followed it, both The Voidoids and seminal NYC punk band, Television, and is an interesting document of where both bands divided and where they stayed the same.

4. Suicide - "Rocket USA"
A sort of ideological brother to The Clash's famous apocalyptic single "London Calling", the nerveracking and claustrophobic mix of Suicide's "Rocket USA" is a brilliantly unsettling usage of sound, particularly in the quivering vocals of Alan Vega, constant fuzz and drums, and the ghostly Farfisa organ in the background. The song is less about evoking a swell of emotions and dynamics, and more about capturing, in its steadiness, the fear and paranoia of looming destruction.

5. The Accident - "Kill The Bee Gees"
This is a personal one for me, primarily because I'm related to half of this band. Two of my father's cousins formed this band, who became infamous for this song. Though probably born from ordinary annoyance at the shining gloss of disco that overpopulated radio at the time, this Olympia, WA band's song symbolized a greater shift, and kind of a thesis statement for punk at the time--to tear down the decadence of the disco era, spit all over its sheen, and hold up a mirror to the shit and piss of the times.

It's also just monstrously aggressive, and still heavy, after all these years.

6. Television - "Friction"
You couldn't describe punk without talking about Television, an often overlooked band of the era who helped lay down the foundations of the New York punk scene. Its members were involved with everyone from Blondie, Patti Smith to Talking Heads. Television were pushing punk forward, while the Ramones were focused on amateurish frenetic bursts. "Friction" with its almost-new-wave tendencies and terrific guitar work, is art-punk on a plate, and classic Television.

7. The Slits - "FM"
The Slits, an all-female punk group from the UK, took the pathway of the Talking Heads and The Police, by melding nervy art-punk with reggae/dub influences. Though well-known for the risque topless album cover to their 1979 debut, Cut, the craft put into their songs took a cue from Television, by making them slicker, more intricate compositions than a lot of the more rough and tumble work coming out of Britain at the time.

What ensues in "FM" is a fantastic melding of shaky reggae rhythms with punk elements, (and even a little folk) that doesn't come off as heavy-handed as some of The Clash's songs can. By combining these ingredients, something new was formed in The Slits.

It is a shame that punk turned into a hypermasculine boys club in the 1980s and 90s. The female punk spirit created some of the most memorable, liberating tunes of the era.

8. Siouxsie & The Banshees - "The Staircase (Mystery)"
The doomy goth-punk of Siouxsie & The Banshees continues to impact and influence. 

In Britain, as in New York, women were central to the punk aesthetic, and Siouxsie was Queen. Everyone from Robert Smith to Sid Vicious were involved with the Banshees at one point or another, and listening to "The Staircase" is easy to see the interest. 

Its dark, menacing sound is huge. This is music that demands to be listened to, and it is in no small way attributed to the seductive power of Siouxsie. 

9. Patti Smith - "Free Money"
Ending our trilogy of female-fronted punk is this classic from Patti Smith. 

Let me just shout it from the rooftops: I LOVE PATTI SMITH.

From its shimmery introduction, to its gradual transition to a propulsive anthem, "Free Money" is fast, rocking, as well as oddly emotional. Its structure seems to make no sense, but is absolutely perfect: it builds at just the perfect rate before exploding and hurdling forward, leaving everything in its wake.

Patti Smith's lyrical prowess and vocal power remains unparalleled. Every bad rock girl (and some boys) have tried to mimic her vocal tics and imagistic words but consistently fail to capture the nuances and intricacies of Smith's. 

If you don't already have it, I beg of you: Buy Patti Smith's "Horses". You won't regret it.

10. Dead Kennedys - "California Uber Alles"
Though typically associated with the hardcore punk of the 1980s, Dead Kennedys first recorded their most famous song, "California Uber Alles" in 1979. Depicting the hypothetical Presidential administration of then-California governor, and 1980 Presidential candidate Jerry Brown, (and likening it to a Hitler-esque regime), "California Uber Alles" is not only one of the greatest songs I've heard, it remains relevant after almost thirty years. It would seem that a song so of-the-moment would remain dated, but "Uber Alles", as with every Dead Kennedys song, can be applied to any frightening political circumstance, and continues to be shockingly hilarious and terrifying.

The tense, final seconds of "Uber Alles" are some of the finest in any rock song, evoking an image of Nazi-esque soldiers marching through the streets of San Francisco.

11. Richard Hell & The Voidoids - "The Blank Generation"
The first punk rock anthem, and apt closer to this collection, Richard Hell's "The Blank Generation" encapsulates what it meant (and means) to be young in a tumultuous time. Its lyrics and ferocity resonate in our current day. The biggest shame of this song is how it was misconstrued by many to be promoting an apathetic, nihilistic outlook that eventually caused punk to implode.

In its original connotation, Hell imagined "The Blank Generation" as undefined and thusly free, rather than absentminded, (i.e. "The _______ Generation"). 

Within Hell's lyrics are what came to be the story of punk: the movement tore itself from its womb, sprawling out fully formed, yet completely premature. Fiery and free-falling, punk was made to destroy and enlighten. It was for the lonely children who set an extra place for the wall at dinnertime. It was for the misunderstood kids, damaged kids, the dirty streetrats who felt like "God's consolation prize". 

The birth imagery suggests music reborn, but images of heroin tracks on arm, "air packed with cash", and vacant lots, and losing your train of thought suggests the very things that led to punk's untimely death.

But perhaps, that was the point.

***


with love, chris osborn.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

number two. UK sike-pop

NOTE: Sorry for the long delay, school has gotten in the way. Now that the internet is officially fixed here at the dorms, and school is cooling down, I feel like I'll be doing this more often.

***

mix number two. UK sike-pop

Like their American contemporaries, psychedelic rock musicians in Britain had similar roots in folk-music, with the first bands indulging in it being folk bands going electric. You can hear it specifically on many tracks on this mix, that drench acoustic guitars in reverb and match them against sitars, organs, electric guitars, and even more off-kilter instruments, (such as my personal favorite from the entire collection, The Ceyleib People's "Ceyladd Beyta"). Lyrically, these songs also followed a strong folk influence, often imagistic and nature-centric, often socially-conscious and anti-war, many of these bands sought further than writing songs about love, fully baring their souls and thusly giving the songs a stronger emotional core. For instance, The Gregorians' "Dilated Eyes" is a beautiful narrative that concerns itself with hypocritical parents who perpetuate violence and self-destruction within their children, all while wondering what the world has come to.

UK sike-pop, as it was called, remained undeniably pop, while toying with traditional production techniques and songwriting formats that predated the more psychedelically-leaning works of The Beatles and Cream. These bands merely popularized, (and perfected) the rough pioneering work of the following artists, who were already creating such sounds. Once "Sgt. Pepper's" and Pink Floyd's "The Piper at the Gates of Dawn" had received more exposure (two albums recorded pretty much simultaneously), the floodgates of psychedelic music had been opened. 

Here were the harbingers of the movement.

***
PART ONE.
1. The Scene - "Scenes (From Another World)
2. Friends of the Family - "Can't Go Home"
3. Silver Hawks - "All I Can Do"
4. The Tree Stumps - "Tomorrow's Sun"
5. The Gregorians - "Dilated Eyes"
6. The Collection - "Paper Crown of Gold"
7. Pussyfoot - "Hasty Words"
8. Rhubarb Rhubarb - "Rainmaker"
9. The Powers of Blue - "You Blow My Mind (instrumental)"
10. The Whether Bureau - "Why Can't You and I?"
11. Davie Allen & The Arrows - "Make Love, Not War (instrumental)"
12. Mother Nature - "Lost in the Pacific"

PART TWO.
1. The Ceyleib People - "Ceyladd Beyta (instrumental)"
2. Green Scarab - "Asariah's Dance (instrumental)"
3. Churchhills - "Too Much In Love To Hear"
4. Click - "Girl With a Mind"
5. The Endd - "This is Really The Zoo Plus Two (instrumental)"
6. Summer Set - "It's a Dream"
7. Rainy Daze - "Fe Fi Fo Fum"
8. Captain Groovy and His Bubblegum Army - "Bubblegum March"
9. Cats Pyjamas - "Virginia Water"
10. Unknown Artist - "Mystery Track 2" (if anyone has any info on this track, let me know)
11. Billy Elder - "Don't Take The Night Away"
12. Bill Fay - "Unreleased, Untitled Acetate"

with love, chris osborn.