Buriedfed introduces Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson as a sort of Dylanesque everyperson. Robinson sings overlapping tales of desperation that lay over dense atmospheric folk. You’re surrounded by ennui because to Robinson - a former drug addict and homeless perpetually on the edge of relapse - misery is everywhere.
I am shocked, shocked I say, at the general “meh” response to the still-newish Wolf Parade record. Nearly every review mentions at least one of two things: a lack of cohesiveness as an album, and some sort of allusion to prog-rock.
The typical reviewer gets caught up in the story behind the band, how the two principal songwriters write independently, how this record was low priority in the realm of their other well-known musical projects. This obscures the fact that the record is beyond solid as an album, and sounds like the next logical step from the great Apologies to the Queen Mary.
And though I still don’t really know what prog is, I guess the last track here, “Kissing the Beehive” has a lack of clearly defined verse-chorus sections, time-signature tinkering (a lot of 9/4 here, what up Neil Peart), and a bit more self-indulgence than radio generally allows for. Yup, might be prog.
But outside of that song, this record is modern rock pure and simple, with some truly high highs and “California Dreamer” being the pinnacle. Clocking in at six minutes, this rollercoaster is the kind you get right back in line for when it’s over. The chorus is revealed first in a teaser, then the full-blown two-part portion with one of the album’s great organ melodies. A calm before the final snowstorm, where fist-pumps become involuntary, and then where you expect the song to end, it builds again to a final pre-chorus, where they leave you wanting more.
Well played, Wolf Parade. Six chugging minutes, very possibly my song of the year.
Wolf Parade - “California Dreamer”
Daniel - Hey, I’m your Roommate Daniel. Daniel Rossen.
Fred - Fred Nicolaus
Daniel - Great Name
Fred - Thanks. Do you wanna make music with me?
Daniel - You bet I do.
They make a CD called The Whitey on the Moon UK LP
Daniel - Fred, I got great news, I was asked to join this band called Grizzly Bear.
Fred - Oh, did they ask about me?
Daniel - Nope, gotta run
Grizzly Bear releases Yellow House
Daniel - Hi Fred, have you been hearing how great everyone thinks my new band is?
Fred - Yea - you get those demos I sent you?
Daniel - I did, why do they sound like they were recorded in your mom’s attic?
Fred - Because they were.
Daniel - Oh, well they’re good. I think they might work with some stuff I wrote that’s not gonna work with my band.
Fred - What are you saying?
Daniel - I’m saying let’s get the band back together.
Fred - Sure
Daniel - Great, when can you record?
Fred - Whenever
Daniel - Ok, I got a window between when we play with Paul Simon and when we tour with Radiohead. What do you say Fred Nicolaus?
Fred - Let’s rock n’ roll
Department of Eagles’ In Ear Park will be released October 7th.
In Ear Park
No One Does It Like You
It’s gotta be kind of embarrassing for old rock heads these days trying to get bands together. They either (1) hang out at Guitar Center rocking the same pair of black jeans and hammering out the same pentatonic solo trying to catch an ear, or (2) troll the “musicians” areas of Craigslist looking for other computer programmers that like Cactus and New Riders of the Purple Sage (deep cuts, brother!). Grey beard, keep that chin up. Your train has arrived.
Endless Boogie, “Smokin’ Figs In the Yard”:
The midsummer party at the Yard, with an audience clad in jean cutoffs, the PBR flowing from a homemade cooler keg and the sewage floating in the nearby Gowanus Canal, resembled a trailer park bbq. I read comments before the show speculating on the possibility that No Age might show up to play. No Age didn’t show up but their D.I.Y sensibility sure did. These 16 bands that performed are a pretty good indicator of where music is headed. Basically if you recording music in a fancy pants studio, then you’re trying to hard. Some stand out bands with notes below.
Abe Vigoda (”They sound like a harder Vampire Weekend”)
Dead City/Waste Wilderness
High Places (Kids Love Them)
Head Spins
Shy Child (Couldn’t tell you much about Shy Child - at the time I was deep into a forgettable bocce ball session - but this song caught my attention)
Astronaut
Crystal Antlers, Oneida, Titus Andronicus, Telepathe and others also played.
Listening to the Beta Band’s first, self-titled LP, it’s hard to imagine how Astralwerks (or whomever their label was in the UK) even let them put out a second. They basically said, “OK we have all this money, we’re more hyped than the Vines will ever be, so let’s confuse the crap out of everyone with some weird genre-hopping psychedelic bullshit.” I mean, seriously: “The Beta Band Rap”? A self-mythologizing, corny-ass white rap to start the record? Sure, why not.
But, upon an honest second look, it’s clear that the Beta Band was a record just conceptually lost in sound and in serious need of editing. In that sense, it’s a snapshot of a developing band – they parlayed the freaky foundations of their first record to really mature and knock one out of the park with II, still an unheralded set. Some of the footing they found in “It’s Not Too Beautiful” (a great, yet flawed tune), “Number 15” and “Dance O’er the Border” is pretty incredible yet completely overstuffed. And I’d be remiss not to mention “Broken Up Adingdong” — probably one of my favorite songs ever – one that can probably be filed under campfire boogie.
It’s not always apparent that groups mature. Bands either hit their stride initially, or they’re forgotten – particularly these days. In the Beta Band’s case, it’s fun to watch as these four longhairs go from amateur sonic architects to songwriters.
Last night was the second annual Summer Nights of Wonder benefit concert featuring the legendary Stevie Wonder at the Hollywood Bowl. From the funky stuff to the slow jams, Stevie and his allstar band were incredible.
The highlight of the show was without question, a little duet featuring Stevie and his 26 year old son Kailand.
stevie: i don’t care too much about all the album sales and records and whatnot from over the years. One thing I do think about from time to time is just how many people have ever used my records. How many of you have ever used my records? You know, to get busy. How many of you have used one of my songs to get busy?
crowd: (murmurs of agreement)
stevie: (yells across the stage) And what about you Kailand?? Don’t be shy now son! Have you have gotten busy thanks to one of daddy’s songs??? I know I have.
crowd: craziness
after much prodding, Kailand walks up from back stage and sits next to his father at the keys.
Kailand: there is one song that I might have put on from time to time. i might lay the girl down, might get her in the mood and say…
Please take a moment to marvel at how incredible it’s going to be to have Justin Hawkins back in rock action. Dude is keeper of the most ridiculous pipes and lyrics in rock history, not to mention the hands down best song about genital warts ever (”Growing On Me“). After internal turmoil, drug habits, etc. broke up the Darkness, the well of amazing catsuit rock ‘n roll unfortunately dried up. No more. According to the internet, Hawkins is back with a new group called Hot Leg. Get excited, as this tune is only a b-side non-album track.
“Heroes“:
And, lest you forget, the single most absurd video ever:
It says that this new Nas song was produced by somebody named Jay Electronica but come on - that has to be an alias of Philip Glass right? This “beat” sounds just like the P. Glass song posted a few months ago on this site. Its gotta be.
(The new album, set for release on July 15th, is still untitled - how about Philmatic?)
Queens Get the Money
And so using reductive, simplistic estimation, I come to the conclusion that nothing before or after has ever sounded like This Heat. The south London paranoiacs’ self-titled debut, fired off an apocalyptic warning shot, showcasing overbearing heaviness bigger than most of the black metal to come, more cinematic than the most epic post-rock. Long stretches of silence suddenly evaporate into overbearing noise. Eerie vocals hang over midnight noises. Violence permeates the borders. This is not meant to be listened to at daytime, but this is not meant for dark streets. Honestly: this shit is fucked.
