That's Enough, Alex Clare

Alex, dude, no. Enough, knock it off.

You are a big bearded guy with a decent voice who caught a Microsoft wave to relevance with last year’s dub-folk abortion “Too Close”. Don’t get me wrong, “Too Close” is a clever tune, in that it tied a rope around the wobbly brostep synths that were still “novel and underground” to people who know nothing about music. There were those of us, however, who raised an eyebrow. It seemed like an obvious cash grab. Could any self-respecting artist really craft an aesthetic this transparently pandering?

Well it turns out you’ve answered that question with your newest single, “Up All Night” (which was actually released prior to “Too Close”, IN 2010. The music industry is a funny, ugly thing). “Up All Night” is refreshingly not-dubstep, but that’s sort of like finding out your pool has less pee in it than you thought. “Up All Night” is not just a forgettable and resentful song about drunknen grossness, it’s not just you jacking  dancehall vocals you have no right using, it’s not just an off-putting video featuring a healthy dose of vomit and your beard, it’s all of those things.

I have a beard sometimes man, I know how hard it can be for guys like us. But you know what I don’t do? Make terrible music that I know is terrible and I know will sell. Do not delude yourself into thinking what you are doing is good, or is boundary pushing, or is helping. Before your next backlogged single from 2007 sees the light of day to further infuriate me, could you please maybe just stop? Just hang it up and go work for a non-profit, the world and radio will be a slightly better place.

Stream Waxahatchee's new LP Cerulean Salt

Nobody can ever figure out how to spell my last name. “It’s just like it sounds,” I tell them.

Say it with me kids, “Waxahatchee“. Hard to remember? Nah, it’s just like it sounds. Waxahatchee is the solo project of Katie Crutchfield, a 24-year-old Philly based songwriter. On her sophomore LP Cerulean Salt she largely abandons the grainy acoustic rusticity of her debut American Weekend in favor of a more electrified and fully realized sound.

There are some serious Liz Phair vibes all over this, and like Phair, Crutchfield can write. “Could you be extraordinary? We’re alone in this gaudy mess / in the house of slurred speech sharing gravity to suppress…” she pleads on “Lips and Limbs”, but I’m not sure if she’s even that worried about it…

Stream Cerulean Salt through NPR’s First Listen Series by clicking here.

Stream Autre Ne Veut's new album Anxiety

Autre Ne Veut is Arthur Ashin, a 30-year-old bedroom singer-songwriter from Brooklyn trafficking in the kind smoothed out but scrappy electro r&b that’s become so popular in the last couple years. But what sets Ashin apart is his conviction and his effort. When he sings, you get the impression he’s not the kind of person who doesn’t have to try. But he absolutely owns it. There are jagged edges pushing up from under the blanket. Check out Autre Ne Veut’s sophomore album Anxiety below.

Guster and Phoenix had a Baby and they're called Atlas Genius

As I’m driving in to work this morning this song comes on. I had heard it in passing and know that it’s on regular rotation on our local alt-rock radio station. So that’s when I’m all “wait, is this Guster? This guy sounds a LOT like the Guster guy, but for some reason I don’t think it is…” then I discover I had Shazamed it when I first heard it. “Atlas Genius,” I stroked my chin and mused thoughtfully, scraping past cars in the breakdown lane at 110 miles per hour.

But this sounds like Phoenix! This occasion of similarity is a re-appropriation though, rather than an all-out theft. These Atlas Genius characters know how to borrow those crystal clean rhythmic guitar lines tastefully (unlike some people we know…) Check out the video for “Trojans” and stream the rest of their debut EP “Through the Glass” below. They’ve also just released a debut, but I haven’t gotten to that yet…

You Oughta Know: The Antlers

A single piano plays a desolate melody as machines beep and breath.

“While I was checking vitals I suggested a smile / You didn’t talk for a while, you had reason / You said you hated my tone (it made you feel so alone) / and so you told me I ought to be leaving. / But something kept me standing by that hospital bed / I should have quit but instead I took care of you. / You made me sleep at unevens, and I didn’t believe them / when they told me that there was no saving you…”

“Kettering” is the first proper song on The Antlers’ heart-evaporating 2009 masterpiece Hospice. The record is a concept album telling the story of a hospice worker who falls in love with (his/her, I think her) patient, a young girl dying of bone cancer*. If it sounds heavy, it’s crushing, and yet fleeting but detectable traces of sunlight sneak in around the edges. The album is incredibly deep not just musically, but thematically, posing questions about what it really means to be in love, whether communing souls will follow each other into the afterlife, and if death can ever lend us anything beyond sadness and loss.

The record doesn’t make it easy; it is at once disorientingly noisy and plaintively intimate, despairing and hopeful. (And don’t worry; if you’re at least a few listens in, it’s probably weirder if you’re not weeping uncontrollably at the end of “Wake” than if you are…)

The Antlers had technically released two “albums” before Hospice, but those (2006s Uprooted and 2007s In the Attic of the Universe) were largely lo-fi bedroom affairs written and performed entirely by Brooklyn front man Peter Silberman. It wasn’t until Hospice that Antlers made their first fully realized statement as a group.

Since then they’ve made two others, the first of which is the followup Bust Apart, from 2011. Less conceptually driven than its predecessor, Burst Apart is no less rich with sweeping, widescreen arrangements and wistful musings on love lost and leaving. Opener “I Don’t Want Love” is a grinning reprisal about the inescapable superficiality of sex, while closer “Putting the Dog to Sleep” hinges on a metaphor so apt the song might actually be about canine euthanasia. In between there are orchestral post-rock compositions, some heavy In Rainbows-era Radiohead influence, and a song about the moments just after an A-bomb has exploded in your town and death is a few seconds away. Like Hospice it’s a heavy listen, but one that continually draws the listener closer to see the hidden filigree.

And then there’s Undersea, which despite its four songs and EP-length running time, may be the band’s most complex and fully realized work to date. Imagined as a concept EP about sinking into the ocean and floating around, the record’s ability to evoke submersion — and a lonesome contentment — is truly remarkable. Its four songs run the gamut from Sigur Ros-ish post-rock (“Endless Ladder”), to Portishead-ish trip hop (“Crest”), but always feel unified in tone; this record makes you feel like you’re under the ocean, it’s that simple.

Currently the Antlers haven’t yet announced plans for their next album, but it would surprise me greatly if they’re done. Over the last several years they’ve created some of the most beautiful and effecting music of this or any era. They haven’t ratcheted up the speed, but the Antlers are rolling downhill, and quite enjoying it.

Stream Hospice here:


Stream Burst Apart here:


Stream Undersea here:

*Though it is, admittedly, inviting of other more allegorical interpretations…

Hear Beck's Batshit Crazy 160-Musician Reimagining of David Bowie's "Sound and Vision"

You can’t make this stuff up: as part of a new web series/PR Stunt/”we-promise-we-don’t-just-make-cars-for-mobsters” campaign called Hello Again — sponsored by, um, the Lincoln Car Company — Beck was enlisted to, I don’t know, do whatever the hell he wanted to do? Beck chose to enlist 160 or so musicians of every sort (my friend Max noticed a Gamelan Orchestra) to perform an extended “reimagining” of David Bowie‘s Low classic “Sound and Vision”.

The result would feel bloated and self-indulgent, if it wasn’t so incredibly good. Lincoln dropped an enormous amount of money to design and fabricate a giant binaural microphone capable of picking up sound from 360 degrees around the stage, and Beck put it to very good use. The multi-section “beats” he creates at the start are breathtaking and when he hits a moment in the Bowie tune where everyone is clapping along you realize that the performers greatly outnumber the audience members (among whom I hope there’s at least one completely awe-struck nephew of a Lincoln executive whose mom told her brother how much of a giant Beck fan her son was).

Beck is on an absolute tear right now and I’m hoping and praying we get a new album of original stuff sometime soon. For now, this is a thing to behold and best experienced between two large speaker or on headphones…

Check out New Tracks from Youth Lagoon and Kurt Vile

 

Blog.com has been down all day (I’m getting closer and closer to pulling the trigger on moving all of my content somewhere else), which is a bummer because I really wanted to get these out there this morning.

Check out the new tracks from Youth Lagoon and Kurt Vile below, both songs happen to be the longest in running time of any in the respective artists’ catalogues. Stay tuned for streams of YL’s Wondrous Bughouse and Kurt Vile’s Wakin on a Pretty Daze as soon as they’re available.

m b v – A Conversation

On Monday I got a message on the Happy Music Sad Music facebook page from Raptor Jesus:

Hey Kevin!

Just read your new post about your further thoughts on the new m b v. Your ALL CAPS part about repetitive noise caught my eye and I figured we could have a fun discussion about the new album, it could be for your site and a fun take on the new album and its newness.

I like that you’re keeping a level head about the album and that’s important since I really don’t mind falling head over heels for it immediately. But figured it could be fun even for our own personal catharsis to talk about the details of this album. A good ole fashioned friendly talk where you can help me get more grounded opinions on this album and vice versa.


I stroked my chin thoughtfully, this could be cool. Raptor Jesus is a radio host, music fan, and regular commenter on Stereogum. I’d had a not altogether gushing reaction to My Bloody Valentine‘s new album m b v (their first in 21 years). My Bloody Valentine made the seminal shoegaze record Loveless in 1991 and then, for any number of reasons, backed out of music. Frontman Kevin Shields played coy for two decades, intermittently hinting that a followup to Loveless was imminent. We never got the record though and there were even rumors of Shields, ever the perfectionist, scrapping entire albums worth of material.

All that changed Saturday when My Bloody Valentine announced the release of m b v through their website (stream it here), which promptly crashed. Torrents were passed around, Consequence of Sound posted a Youtube playlist, and slowly the record spread. To say nothing of the album’s quality, it’s a very focused and uncompromising work and it captures well the singularity of the band’s sound. My initial reaction (via a stereogum comment) was tempered, I wanted to make sure we weren’t jumping to praise something simply for the sake of its newness or nostalgia factor. What follows is the discussion I had with Raptor Jesus about the album:

KB:  Hey man, it just occured to me, why don’t we just make this an ongoing discussion. If you’re willing we can just make this spread out over the next couple days… (any ideas where you’d like to start?)

RJC: Sure thing! Well, we could start with the MYSTERY behind this album. Mystery, you say? Yes, the mystery of “how long have these songs existed??” Because when I listen to it, I get that feeling like I’m listening to an old record that’s been around for a long time. Like when you listen to an old Zeppelin or Floyd album for the first time and even though it is unfamiliar to you, the listener, it still has this feeling of familiarity.

When I listen to m b v I feel like it’s been around for a long time. Like I’m popping in an old favorite. Except it’s brand new! And I can’t get these songs out of my head. But even after only listening to it a few times, it felt like I’d already heard it 100 times. I wonder how long ago some of these songs were written, if Kevin Shields spent years and years perfecting some of them. If he whipped up a few of them between their 2008-2009 tour and now? I don’t know, but he did mention that some of these songs were ready for a follow-up in the 90s, and it definitely comes across that way.

I wanted to discuss that aspect of the album first since I think that’s a large reason why a lot of people, myself included, are falling in love with it instantly. It already carries that feeling of nostalgia. That’s a big part of this album that I can’t help but love, but realize it probably clouds my critical assessment of the album.

KB: Interesting you said what you did about the instant air of familiarity to the album. I agree that it sounds like something old (and that the songs included were probably written intermittently in the years since Loveless), but I had an opposite reaction to yours when you said the songs feel like you’ve already heard them, and I think it’s because of the fact that the gestation period for this album left me totally unprepared for an album that actually sounded like My Bloody Valentine. It’s a testament to how idiosyncratic they are as a band, but for me, I was totally bewildered when these fully formed songs began cascading at me, almost a “they don’t make music like this anymore”.

RJC: Well I guess that’s why it seemed familiar to me. It seems like [Shields] spent most of these years perfecting their/his aesthetic. I think it says a lot about this album too that it’s more or less their self-titled release. I’ve always attributed self-titled albums as a definitive aesthetic statement for a band. Like, when you think of THIS band, these songs should come to mind. In My Bloody Valentine’s case, Loveless has always been the touchstone for understanding their sound, but I’m starting to lean towards this new release as the focal point for MBV. There are elements from both their previous albums on m b v.

Should we just skip to talking about “nothing is” and “wonder 2” since they seem to be the songs getting mixed responses. Even though I am ALL FOR both of them as I feel they’re a perfect 1-2 closer for that album. But I know you had some feelings on “nothing is” and I wanted to know if you have a different outlook on “wonder 2” yet.

KB: Alright briefly, my spiel on “nothing is”. I definitely understand its value as a piece of experimental rhythm music, but it just doesn’t feel necessary given what’s around it, and it’s the only song on the album that I would venture to say doesn’t “sound like my bloody valentine”. I have no problem with pulverizing rhythm and a sonic onslaught (read: I like black metal), but that’s not what I come to My Bloody Valentine looking for. It’s an interesting (if not good) piece of music, but in the larger context of the album it feels out of place and unnecessary. Can you imagine if “in another way” transitioned into “wonder 2”? Now THAT would be a one-two punch (I have come around on “wonder 2”, though I still don’t think it’s as strong as most of the earlier songs).

NOW to come around to what is really on my mind about this album. The idea of trying to review this record is really intimidating to me for a number for reasons. Here in 2013 we’ve all had time to hone a very specific and formulaic (albeit effective and informative) style of talking/writing about music. Talking about music this way inevitably leads to thinking about music this way and the only logical step from there is HEARING music this way (picking it apart, looking for what it “sounds like”, etc.). That’s why it so throws me for a loop that this album seems to exist out of time; it feels untouchable to contemporary critical process. How do I describe a song like “wonder 2” without resorting to platitudes (“it’s jungle, it’s driving, it’s noisy, it’s unresolved”)? All of those descriptors fit the song, but they don’t really serve to tell you anything about how the music actually sounds.

A band like, say, Purity Ring is very easy to write about because they’re incorporating sounds with which we’ve become familiar over the last howevermany years, but they’re putting a new spin on it. When I say something like “this song bubbles and churns like a washing machine” — insofar as you understand contemporary pop music criticism — you probably actually have a pretty good idea of what that song “sounds like”. Totally not the case for My Bloody Valentine, whose music appeared first in a time before we could all instantly compare notes on how it sounded and made us feel. I guess that’s another reason all the hubub surrounding this release is so fascinating to me. I mean, I was 7 or 8 when Loveless came out, and you can be damn sure I wasn’t listening to My Bloody Valentine at 7 or 8. Without dwelling too much on the nostalgia aspect, it is just exciting to see a new generation getting this album right in the prime of their music devouring careers (while simultaneously having no idea how to describe what they’re hearing, isn’t it ironic? don’t you think?)

RJC: Since we seem to be the same age I’m in the same boat of Loveless being released when I still thought Celine Dion was the ish. And it goes back to my thoughts on the genesis of these songs, because even if SOME of these songs came to be in the early 90s, Shields’ influences are likely something older. But honestly, 22 years later, is there any other band influencing this band more than My Bloody Valentine? I feel like that huge time gap involved Kevin deciphering his own sound and tinkering with it endlessly.

Raptor Jesus and Celine Dion, Sitting in a Tree…

The only precedent to this album is Loveless and that is why I think you can’t mention this album without talking about Loveless. When I hear m b v I instantly enjoyed it more than [the group’s proper debut] Isn’t Anything and I feel fine putting it right underneath Loveless. I think Loveless is better but not by a long shot or anything. I was re-listening to Loveless and didn’t even make it through “Soon” before I tossed m b v back in the changer. But my re-listen did shine a light on the inclusion of “nothing is” for me.

At the end of “What You Want” when it fades out into a pretty loop that repeats itself for a good minute before moving into that classic drum roll that ushers in “Soon” to close out Loveless. How much does “Soon” benefit from that 1 minute of repetition? Was it necessary? I feel it was. Because unless you’re counting, it makes the end an unexpected treat every time you listen to that album. I’ll also throw the under a minute interlude “Touched” into the mix as well to support my defense of “nothing is”. There is something about having instrumental tracks to break up the sequencing of an album. “in another way” into “wonder 2” wouldn’t work for me because “in another way” hits me SO HARD that I NEED a come down. I need a palate cleanser before “wonder 2” ends the whole album.

“nothing is” does that for me. Not only does it keep up the momentum started by “in another way” – it recalls Isn’t Anything MBV and reminds us that this band DID have another album besides Loveless that included the repetitive onslaught known as “Feed Me With Your Kiss”. It also reminds me that this is the band that likes to play 15 minutes of white noise at the end of their live show before bringing back the final verse of “You Made Me Realise”.

“nothing is” is simply the gatekeeper for “wonder 2”. “nothing is” is the guard at the castle doors, frisking you to make sure you’re strong enough to see the king. In the end, it’s only 3 and a half minutes of repetitive noise. And it comes so deep in the album that Shields has earned a moment on his album to do what he pleases. If that means blasting the audience for 3 minutes, so be it. Something tells me there is a MUCH longer version of “nothing is” laying around his hard drive…

But “wonder 2” is the big catch. (Quick Side Note: You hear the lyrics in “she found now” where Kevin is muttering “I wonder…” then I think he says “If you found…” something. I’ve always been awful at deciphering MBV but I found it cool he says “wonder” in the first song and the last song is “wonder 2”. The album sequencing nerd in me loves that.) Really I don’t know what to say about “wonder 2” other than the “I’m-Stuck-In-A-Jet-Engine” comparison. But really I just want to focus in on the LAST 30 seconds of that song. After taking us up, down and scrambling our brain with this WAY low in the mix, Aphex Twin-esque drum pattern, Kevin Shields does something very, very impressive. In the final 30 seconds he dismantles the song right in front of us. He breaks it down. The drum pattern starts skittering to a halt, yet still follows in that same wave pattern the “whooshes” (best I can do) of “wonder 2” were making immediately before its end. It’s the part of the album, and I’ve felt this on albums before, where it feels like the creator is pulling back the curtain just for a moment to allow you to see the person responsible for twisting all these sounds together. We’ll be blessed if another band can close out their album in a more impressive way than “wonder 2”.

“in another way” is still my favorite from the album, but I started comparing it to “only tomorrow” in a sense that their climaxes seems very similar. The way the guitar chops up the final notes. Either way I’ve been unable to get “only tomorrow” out of my head.

KB: All right, so now it’s time to put your ranking cap on. You said you think this is a fairly close second to Loveless, what’s your score on a scale of 0-10 (you can give .5s, but none of this dumbass p4k 9.1 crap…)

RJC: Well if Loveless is a 10 (it is) then m b v is a 9. I’d give it a 9.5 but let’s just give it a 9 and forget about decimals. Let’s call it an easy 9. An obvious 9.

To be honest, there are going to be albums that will top this for me this year. But it’s the beauty of getting AWESOME albums early in the year. We just got done going over 2012 releases and we’re finally ready for what’s in store with 2013. Without a doubt this is the best release we’ve gotten so far and it has set the bar. It’s not an unreachable bar, but it is a SOLID collection of songs sequenced in an addictive order.

Also, it was Bradford Cox in an interview that informed me of listening to “Loveless” in the winter time, how it’s a perfect winter album. I’d agree and even go so far as to say most MBV is great winter time music. The fact this new album came out in the winter time really strikes a bonus chord with me. Not that I won’t be listening to it all year… but when winter rolls back around at the end of 2013 I think a lot of listeners will be going… “Oh yeahhhh, m b v! OH GOD THIS IS AMAZING!” (once we have time to live with it for awhile)

SOLID 9!

Now let’s see what David Bowie & The Knife have in store for us… and Daft Punk… and Phoenix…

Stream m b v by clicking here.

Stream Loveless by clicking here.

Stream Isn’t Anything by clicking here.