Moderator: Redaktörer
av zidanefromhell » 2010-06-02 19:34
av CODY » 2010-06-02 19:53
av FalloutBoy » 2010-06-02 20:23
zidanefromhell skrev:Tack o bock falloutboy! Du gör ett grymt arbete med att snoka fram musik! Hatten av
av FalloutBoy » 2010-06-02 21:16
CODY skrev:Helt strålande, Wooden Shjips Vol 2:
Tyvärr det enda som finns på spotify av dem.
CODY skrev:Moon Duo, med Erik Johnson från Wooden Shjips:
Chockerande bra
Switching instruments and experimenting with recording techniques,
Meneguar has cooked up a totally unique(and surprising) record. The In
Hour channels the spontaneity and aesthetics of Swell Maps, the pop
hooks of the Zombies, and lyrical collage of Guided By Voices.
Everything was home recorded at their little Xanadu in Brooklyn, Rear House,
home base to the Woodsist label and the changing roster of Meneguar's
alter egos(Woods, Shepherds). Only six months since their last record,
The In Hour represents a serious departure that still holds true to the band's undeniable pop sensibility.
-- http://www.woodsist.com/woodsist.htm/
"Meth Teeth reside in Portland OR. and in some ways embody the rainy day big country vibe of the city with its youth culture dreamers, old druggies, and rustic history. There is something that is really hard to pin down about Meth Teeth, the songs rely on simple ramshackle rhythms, upbeat shinny guitar interplay, and big fat chord churners, and alot of tambourine banging away on the snare drum. Ultra catchy summertime rockers keep you sad and lonely, and upbeat and hopeful all at once."
-- http://www.woodsist.com/woodsist.htm/
When Tim Cohen told Shayde Sartin he was writing a song called "Be My Hooker," the Fresh & Onlys bassist looked at the singer/guitarist and said... "'There's no way we're gonna have a song with that title, dude,'" explains Sartin. "But sure enough, he laid a riff down and I was like, 'Jesus christ, I can't believe you pulled something meaningful out of such a stupid line.'" Welcome to the push/pull dynamic that's fueled the Fresh & Onlys' steady stream of releases over the past year, including last spring's self-titled LP (Castle Face) and this fall's Grey-Eyed Girls (Woodsist). And to think it all started the old-fashioned way—with Sartin and Cohen simply hanging out after work, playing their favorite punk (Buzzcocks, The Mekons) and classic rock (Country Joe and the Fish, cued up alongside slabs of psych from the group's homebase, San Francisco) records alongside a growing collection of empty beer cans. "I can't really explain what happened or why," says Sartin. "I guess we listened to records until we were on the same page, and from that point on, we never stopped recording." As simple as all of that sounds, the duo first bought a tape machine five years ago. When that failed to produce any concrete cuts, Cohen focused on his previous avant-pop band, Black Fiction, and Sartin split his time between session and live work for such bands as the Skygreen Leopards, Papercuts and Citay. Not to mention his close friend Kelley Stoltz, who ended up releasing the first Fresh & Onlys 7" (the limited Imaginary Friends EP) in early 2008. With so much music hitting shops in such a short time (Sartin says the band already has boxes of backlogged tapes), you might think the Fresh & Onlys camp have a problem with quality control. Quite the contrary; Sartin and Cohen are very careful about what they release. And while the duo writes and records the band's songs, the arrangements are usually fleshed out with guitarist Wymond Miles, drummer Kyle Gibson, and backup singer Heidi Alexander. "If we take a song into the studio or a live setting and it doesn't have wings," says Sartin, "Then we just ditch it and keep the charming demo version." The final mix of Grey-Eyed Girls sounds like a natural bridge between the raucous garage rock of the group's debut and the full-on studio record they plan on wrapping for In the Red later this year. That goes for the galloping grooves of "Happy To Be Living," the shadowy post-punk of "Invisible Forces," and the firework finale freak-outs that drive "The Delusion of Man." Not to mention a stack of hook-slinging tracks that nix any 'shitgaze' assumptions you may have. "We're not trying to hide melodies or do the blown-out thing," says Sartin. "A lot of those bands are great, but I don't want to ever cater to what's popular. It's not that I'm being reactionary; we're just trying to make recordings that are as rich and ear-friendly as possible." It's working.
-- http://www.woodsist.com/woodsist.htm/
The Mayfair Set is a collaboration between Mike Sniper, the man behind Blank Dogs and Kristin Gundred, The woman behind Dum Dum Girls that up until now has only spawned a single 7″ released earlier this year. This is as close as you can get to Lo-Fi supergroup (if you can even apply that term to a two-man lo-fi or a two-man band). While these sorts of alliances in any scene (large or small) usually tend to give way to a lot of back patting and tepid results, that is not the case here. For you see The Mayfair Set’s sum is much greater than it’s already excellent parts.
While Both Blank Dogs and Dum Dum Girls put out some great and ambitious 7″, EPs and albums this year in their own-right… the interplay between Sniper and Gundred on a record is bar-none. The two perfectly play off one another’s strengths, be it the way Sniper’s fuzzy instrumentation make’s Gundred’s Twee and 60s Girl-Group vocal tendencies seem that much dreamier, or how Gundred’s voice and melody can so easily pronounce the casual pop structure in even the most deconstructed, layered and battered of Sniper’s Shitgaze stews. And when the two sing on a track together, it’s game-over. Be it in a backing role (“I’ve Been Watching You”) or as a proper duet (“Dark House”) Sniper’s heavily processed croons paired to Gundred’s confident and captivating voice are in perfect contrast in creating some of the most haunting pop you’ll ever hear. Just from their singular output this year it should come as little surprise that these two utilize the strengths of Lo-fi production like no one else in conveying mood and tone. And as a result Young One plays out like sepia-tinged dream of love letters and closeted skeletons in a dusky attic.
I know for the casual fan the burgeoning Lo-Fi scene’s endless stream of releases and taste for occasional releasing material on outdated formats is a bit intimidating. And if my endless stream of reviews hasn’t peaked your interest to check it out even just a few of the releases then at the very least give Young One a shot. If I had to choose one release so far this year that not only an easy pill to swallow, but also encapsulates all that is great about the sound and scene, this would be it.
-- http://mishkanyc.com/bloglin/2009/08/20 ... ng-one-ep/
Wavves is the one-man noise-pop project of 22-year-old San Diegan Nathan Williams. Since his homemade cassettes and mpfree turbulence started damaging ears last year, Williams has become the focal point of what reads and feels like a maelstrom of chatter. Once something of a left-field mystery, the hype around him has built steadily throughout this young year. Now with drummer and a press photo, Williams has probably played about as many shows as he has songs to be heard. A spate of recent outings in New York a few weeks back had the scene in such a tizzy, The New York Times sent a dispatch to bear witness. And, just a few days later, to capitalize on the swell, his new label expedited the digital release of Wavvves , his second full-length in just four months.
Without delving too deeply into the muck of Williams' proper (and purely self-titled) debut LP, Wavves , it's worth noting that each of his twin long-players share more than just a menu of goths, weeeeeeed, demons, breakers, and vintage skate photography. While his second is the marginally less abrasive, more realized of the two efforts, both feature the same roach-encrusted punk pop. Be it in the opening power chords of "Beach Demon" or "To the Dregs", there's a couple of fried amps' worth of trusted guitar tropes and distortion-- tricks borrowed from the Wipers and Sonic Youth-- enveloping Williams' carbonated choruses. The vocal hooks themselves come fast, usually propelled by titanic drumbeats nicked from 1960s girl group music. It's not immediate--- and hardly the "pop" record that some have characterized it as-- but deep in the froth of highlight "No Hope Kids" lurks more than just a thick dose of teenaged ennui or even volume. There's thrilling evidence of compelling, thoughtful craftsmanship as well.
Wavves' no-fi bent has been compared to No Age's. But while those guys tend to reach far outside of their own feedback for spaces more expansive, Wavves' music feels more insular, self-contained, and unsettling. These aren't shouts from a house party, but from a solitary bedroom. And Wavvves ' outbursts are often tempered and sandwiched between clipped electronics (opener "Rainbow Everywhere" and "Goth Girls") or experimental noise ("Killer Punx, Scary Demons") that help congeal the album as a whole.
As the hubbub surrounding his music and name game began to gather serious cybersteam over the past few months, the San Diego native wisely moved his signature from small-time imprint De Stijl, to the bigger, much more historically distinct Fat Possum. Business measures and consonant gimmicks aside, the hop down South makes perfect aesthetic sense-- this young man is most certainly singing the blues. Hopeless stoner/loner incantations are scattered throughout, though two of the album's most bulletproof moments are also it's most deliciously bleak. Next to the pains of "No Hope Kids" (no car, no friends, no family, no friends, no girl), "So Bored" leaves memorable blisters. It's the record's one slam-dunk earworm, and it's a total bummer. Over three melted chords and his own back-up oooooooh's and aaaaaah's, Williams' moans a mantra that's bled into every track: "I'm sooooo booooored, I'm sooooo boooored." Not for much longer.
-- http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/12783-wavvves/
Sacred Bones presents the CD version of the first Blank Dogs full-length On Two Sides--vinyl was released (and already oop) earlier this year via Troubleman Unlimited. The first long-playing release and the first non-vinyl appearance (save for a very limited run cassette release of this album via Fuckit Tapes) from bedroom punk's new crowned prince of home-recorded DIY synth dementia. After a string of highly coveted and now mostly out of print singles and EP's On Two Sides finds the band holding attention in the long form. Buried under the layers of distortion, fuzz, and synth lines are pop hooks that call to mind The Bats and The Chills as much as Helios Creed or Debris. Psychedelic punk for fans of the more minimal and electro tendencies of the Komische. Which mask will you wear during Blank Dog Time?
-- http://www.sacredbonesrecords.com/releases/sbr008/
av CODY » 2010-06-02 21:35
Kalas.
Well, I went to the social just to get a little pension
I was sorely in distress, I was needing some attention
They said you don’t get a copper, you don’t get a dime
That’s why I broke his jaw, that’s why I’m doin’ time
But it takes a lotta blue-backs to satisfy my honey
If I could get my hands on some f-oldin' money
av FalloutBoy » 2010-06-04 18:29
Precis. Många skivor kräver ju flera lyssningar innan man kan avgöra om det är bra eller inte. Och den sortens musik kan ganska lätt bli påfrestande om man lyssnar på för mycket åt gången.CODY skrev:De andra fastnade inte riktigt omedelbart, men verkade lovande och det kanske är väl mycket begärt att man skall kunna smälta så många skivor på en gång.
Tackar för tipset! Har faktiskt inte lyssnat på just den Fall-skivan.Vill puffa lite för The Fall, Marshall Suite, som är en skiva som är svår att få tag på och rankades av Mojo som nummer (kanske) 34 på listan av 50
bra skivor som inte går att få tag på
av FalloutBoy » 2010-06-04 20:04
As the Pixies tour still wends its gradual way around the globe, their main man releases what is surely set to be one of his strongest Black Francis albums. Or, indeed, one of his strongest Frank Black albums.
Co-producer Eric Drew Feldman had been holding on to an old black guitar that a fan had given Francis at a San Francisco club. Black finally took hold of it, polishing it up with red wine in his dressing room. Each time he played it a pleasing chord emerged. On a whim, Black instructed his tour manager to book studio time, and he began laying down tracks après-gig, at 4am in LA. Further songs were captured in London, at a studio that Francis believed to be haunted. This comes as no surprise, given the disc's shimmering sonic aura.
Black continues to refine his pop sensibilities, loading each song with heavy hooks and often hitting a chorus before 30 seconds have elapsed. He can drawl with a deeply threatening gruffness, then switch psychotically to a sweetly falsetto howl. At his heart lies saccharine 1950s balladry, but this purity can't survive intact once Francis soils it with his deranged yowling vocals and broken guitar distortion. Velvet-peach melodies are covered with elephantiasis skin.
Vocals emerge from a churning barrage of axes, with Feldman adding to the wall of sound with his antique keyboard crankiness. He floods the background with string ensemble impersonations, cheesy retro settings that sound like they're being forced through a cheap, malfunctioning amplifier. Black's guitar solos are never overlong, but he fills them with undiluted urgency. His sound is reminiscent of Marc Bolan's: choogling and chopping, talking and weeping. Francis is also sounding increasingly similar to Ian Hunter and Alice Cooper, though Wheels, which recalls the latter, is actually a Flying Burrito Brothers cover. It's a grubby rocker, topped by a mammoth guitar solo.
As it happens, most of these songs are rockers, and even the ballads possess a toughened core of energy. Two or three event-crammed minutes are the norm. The entire album barely hits 37. O My Tidy Sum has acoustic guitar strumming to the fore, then Rabbits turns towards nasty psychedelia, coloured by Black's sinister playfulness. When I Go Down On You is the most romantic number in the album's supposed handling of matters sexual, though Francis prefers to keep his words largely abstract in nature.
-- http://www.bbc.co.uk/music/reviews/9vzb
av FalloutBoy » 2010-06-05 18:01
After all of the awful shit Crystal Castles did in the wake of their success, a whole lot of people hoped their new album would be terrible. Sorry, haters: 2010's Crystal Castles improves on their (also self-titled) debut in nearly every way. The latest from the Toronto-based electro duo is reminiscent of the jump forward taken by Deerhunter between Cryptograms and Microcastle, or Fuck Buttons from Street Horrrsing to Tarot Sport. Like those acts, Crystal Castles have reconciled with their detractors instead of running from them. By staying true to themselves, they've created a more focused, propulsive, and satisfying follow-up.
Some listeners might miss the sonic shock that came from hearing the sub-zero Italo chill of "Magic Spells" sequenced next to the 8-bit electrocution of "Xxzxcuzx Me", but clashes like those wore out their welcome over the span of 16 tracks. Here, Crystal Castles embrace continuity and broaden their dynamic range beyond the primitive loops that once constituted the foundations of their songs. The core elements of first single "Celestica", for example, are pure shoegaze, but the waves of distortion that scrape across its chorus squash any concerns that the duo has gone soft. For a band known for its harsh midrange, this record reveals a surprising amount of depth in headphones.
Crystal Castles are far more pop than before, too, which was probably an inevitable move, but hardly a bad one. Like "Celestica", "Suffocation" and "Empathy" mix fanged distortion and sparkly synths, while tracks like "Vietnam", "Not in Love", "Intimate", and the rave-tinged "Baptism" arm the record with loads of could-be singles. But despite this shift toward beauty and clarity, Crystal Castles still rip into some punishing, epileptic moments, like the distorted bass riff on "Birds" and the shredded brutality of "Doe Deer". The fluidity of the music is matched by Alice Glass' frequently manipulated vocals, a showcase for someone too often pigeonholed as a bratty screamer. She sounds at times like everything from a Leslie guitar ("Empathy") to a Cloverfield-style monster ("I Am Made of Chalk"). The obvious comparison is the Knife's Silent Shout, but where Karin Dreijer-Andersson often manipulates her voice to play characters, Glass is just as disturbing for her dehumanization.
As rewarding as this new album is, it's even more impressive when you consider its context: Crystal Castles may have come on at the tail-end of the blog-house/nu-rave/French-touch mini-rage, but they've now transcended it, moving from scene linchpin to indie stars. The reason is simple: Crystal Castles are a singular act who rarely sound like anyone other than themselves. So just as Ladytron's The Witching Hour did for electroclash in 2005, Crystal Castles seems destined to close the door on a fleeting, once-fashionable genre in the best way possible: by making an artistic leap beyond its boundaries.
-- http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/141 ... l-castles/
av CODY » 2010-06-07 02:02
Mycket billigt.
av FalloutBoy » 2010-06-07 19:13
CODY skrev:Lägger upp en egen greatest hits från Fall's BBC-box om 6 CD. Obs jag skulle köpa den om jag var er. 12 pund
Once in a while a record comes along that makes you re-think loud: King of Rock; The Land of Rape and Honey; Nation of Millions; Super Ae; I Get Wet; Kesto. Setting aside the quality of the material-- there are classics here, along with albums I never listen to anymore-- these albums are notable for me because the first time I heard them, music just seemed bigger than it had before, like it took up more space and hit with more force and went further than once seemed possible. When I was getting into these records, I'd get a specific kind of kick just from putting them on. They felt like rides at an amusement park, and I'd get a feeling in my stomach when the first notes kicked in: Here we go. I'm adding another record to my list.
Demos of songs from Sleigh Bells' Treats first started making their way around the Internet last fall, and they immediately served as conversation starters. The distortion in early track "Crown on the Ground" was so intense that every other second the song seemed on the verge of shutting down. But while Derek Miller's overdriven guitar and bass were distressed in the extreme, vocalist Alexis Krauss remained calm as chaos raged around her. Her cadence, somewhere at the intersection of singing, speaking, and chanting, conveyed an easy confidence, like she belonged in the middle of this maelstrom and knew she didn't need to shout to be heard. The contrast between her relaxed bearing-- where she seemed to rule over it all-- and the dangerous splatter of the music was striking to say the least. It was as easy to be taken in as it was to understand why someone else might be repelled. I felt some of both feelings, to be honest, but I also wanted to hear more.
Treats delivers completely on the promise of those demos. Sleigh Bells haven't stopped living the red, but the improved recording quality makes songs including "Crown on the Ground" that much heavier, and the duo have managed to extend their uncomplicated formula across 11 tracks without it wearing thin. The combination of the music's essentials-- jackhammer riffs clipped from punk and metal, mid-tempo beats from hip-hop and electro, and supremely catchy sing-song melodies-- is striking on its own, sounding remarkably fresh and unlike anything else right now. But an even greater source of the record's appeal is how it doesn't sound especially referential.
When so much music seems designed to evoke the mood and vibe of a specific era, either through direct imitation or playing with the memories of the music's context, Sleigh Bells deftly avoid any single pigeonhole. There are references, but it never feels like the music is merely pointing. Genre here is something to be twisted around and pulled and braided with something else, a mangled container struggling to hold the energy and ecstasy of the music. They gather up bits from all over and use them to create music that puts you squarely in the present moment.
The music hits so hard, and in such a satisfying way, and it seems designed to bring you back to the totality of the sound. It's hard to say what the songs are about, since so many words are so difficult to make out, but they work. The lyrics of "A/B Machines" consist only of, "Got my A machines on the table/ Got my B machines in the drawer," repeated over and over, and who am I to question Krauss on this point? We're talking about "a-wop bop a-loo bop a-lop bam boom" and "Da Doo Ron Ron" here, which is just right for what the music tries for.
So my ear on "A/B Machines" goes to the searing guitar lead, which screeches out a few penetrating notes, and then pauses on the clanging low-end and the interludes and Western-sounding guitar rumble. And on the opening "Tell 'Em", the focus goes to the call-and-response drum machine pummel, soaring riff, and finger snaps compressed into sharp little diamonds, as Krauss chirps a short, repetitive melody with the insistence of a pep rally cheer. "Rill Rill" takes the immortal acoustic guitar bit from Funkadelic's "Can You Get to That", blows it up to Hollywood blockbuster size, and loops it along with clicking percussion as Krauss sings what may prove to be the pop earworm of the year, the kind of tune you'd swear you were singing over and over to yourself years ago. "Straight A's" has some of the electro-punk rage of Crystal Castles, the less frantic tracks like "Rachel" have a bit of shoegaze, and the pacing of the album is just so, taking you right to edge in one song and then pulling you back a few inches in the next.
Though both Krauss and Miller have been making music for a while-- he in the hardcore band Poison the Well, she in some kind of manufactured teen-pop group that never got off the ground-- it's easy to see them as a connected band with the right gimmick at the right time. They live in New York, they've played hip shows for important people, and from the beginning the online chatter has been almost as deafening as the guitar tones. But what works in their favor is that they've taken advantage of these breaks and marshaled their talent to make something that oozes joy. There's spirit to this music, and the sonic assault is celebratory, asking only that you come along with it and join in. All of which, for me, anyway, makes the hype melt away. And if it's true that records this intense and exhilarating don't always sustain themselves over the long haul, that's not a worry either. The visceral thrill of Treats may not last forever, but neither does life; right now, this feels like living it.
-- http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/14251-treats/
av CODY » 2010-06-11 09:37
av FalloutBoy » 2010-06-24 14:10
Most people who follow Ariel Pink were introduced to him by 2004's The Doldrums, the first non-Animal Collective release on that band's Paw Tracks label. From the beginning, Pink was presented as an outsider, a recluse who obsessively recorded at home and had compiled hundreds of unheard songs. The notion that he was a supremely strange person making music in his own world was fully supported by the string of albums, singles, and EPs that followed. First, there was the music itself, which saw Pink using an ultra lo-fo recording set-up to re-imagine cheesy AM radio jingles and lost new wave tracks as surreal, art-damaged pop. His music could be bizarre and disturbing, with warped voices and dark subject manner evoking loneliness, bad drugs, and alienation; it could also be sweet and even sincere, celebrating the pleasure of a well-rendered verse melody and a good chorus.
Then there was the fact that the recordings themselves had apparently been excavated from a cache of material from another time: The vast majority of the music he's released since 2004 was written and recorded years earlier, mostly between 1998 and 2002. So a certain amount of mystery was part of the package, and the recordings weren't giving anything away. His releases never struck me as possessing the level of genius his most ardent supporters hear in them, but that was OK, because he didn't seem like he was setting out to make masterpieces.
Something unusual has happened to Ariel Pink since he first started sharing those tapes with the wider world, though. Think of it like the cliché about The Velvet Underground & Nico, but on a smaller, more craft-y scale: His records didn't reach a lot of people, but many of those who heard them were inspired to start home recording projects of their own. So as different kinds of lo-fi music bubbled up from the indie underground in the last couple of years-- from more placid chillwave to roughed-up garage rock to abstract instrumental music-- and many of these bands were talking about his influence, all of a sudden Ariel Pink started looking way ahead of the game. And now, he's been given a chance to do something few artists working on his scale ever do: record an album more or less professionally for a large independent label and enjoy all the increased attention such a leap provides. He did not waste the opportunity.
Oddly, the difference in fidelity isn't what sets this record apart from earlier Ariel Pink releases. While much of the tape hiss that marked those records is gone, along with the degraded audio quality that came off those old, decaying cassettes, this is still a pretty modest-sounding LP, recorded simply and cleanly but not, from the sound of it, expensively. Haunted Graffiti, which began as an abstract concept, has also turned into a full band featuring experienced members who've spent years playing in established independent acts, and each took care to get their various parts right. The vocal harmonies overlap just so, the guitar fills are in the right places, the drumming is tight and precise, and bassist Tim Koh in particular colors the songs with striking rhythmic and countermelodic depth. It turns out that these details make a big difference, even while the album adheres to the hazy overriding aesthetic of Pink's earlier records. The fact that this is, in a sense, Ariel Pink's first group of songs created to be released together and presented as a whole-- as an album, rather than as a collection of songs recorded years ago-- sets the table for a new focus.
We know from interviews that Ariel Pink grew up absorbing throwaway pop from the 70s and 80s, finding a way to make it all fit into his cracked worldview. Something overlooked about those songs, though, is that the people writing them were pros who knew something about intros, codas, and middle-eights, how a certain kind of chord change can cause the turnaround to the chorus to hit a little harder. Ariel Pink's best songs are surprising, and there's a real sense of musical delight on Before Today; the sections sound logical but never predictable, and there are wild bridges and short bits that emerge seemingly randomly but wind up taking the song somewhere unexpected. So "L'estat (Acc. to the Widow's Maid)" goes from a rollicking organ-led opening section to a catchy call-and-response chorus hook the Monkees might have liked to a short double-time instrumental section to a jubilant coda, and all the while the stitches never show. Songs like "Little Wig" have so many interesting interlocking parts that they can almost feel proggy, despite their relative brevity and tight pop structures.
Since a number of these songs exist in earlier versions on other records, it's easy to hear how they benefit from Before Today's more worked-over approach. "Beverly Kills" was a fine song in its original incarnation on the 2002 edition of Scared Famous (it also appeared on last year's Grandes Exitos comp), but it has so much more power here. Opening with roller-rink keyboards, a popping bass, and car chase sound effects, it feels loose and casual until the falsetto vocals snap into place, sounding suddenly like Philip Bailey on a lost Earth, Wind & Fire jam. The delicate soft rock of "Can't Hear My Eyes", also heard twice before in slightly cruder forms, benefits greatly from just a few more dabs of production mousse. It's a song that wants to be slick, bringing to mind carefully layered singles by Alan Parsons Project, complete with swells of synthetic strings and a smooth sax interlude.
And then there's "Round and Round", one of indiedom's most unifying and memorable songs in 2010, which is barely recognizable from its early four-track incarnation as "Frontman/Hold On (I'm Calling)". It's another song of smartly integrated units of melody, any one of which might be built out into a great song of its own, but which together become something astonishing. Its circular bassline doubles with low-chanted voices that build up tension and mystery, a connecting section that opens the song up with a high-pitched plea, and an interlude section with a ringing phone and some jazzy keyboards, all of which build to the massive sing-along chorus. "Round and Round" was mastered at Abbey Road, and not a cent of that cost was wasted. It is endlessly replayable.
Alongside these grabbier tunes are tracks that retain the uncanny, otherworldly sense that has been a constant thread through Ariel Pink's music. Best among these is "Menopause Man," which goes from grim deadpan verses to a fascinatingly beautiful chorus that sounds beamed in from another era, yet remains elusive and difficult to place. But even given the varied style and tone on Before Today-- there's a queasy instrumental and a faithful cover of the 60s garage rock song "Bright Lit Blue Skies"-- it feels of a piece and uniformly strong, and there's so much going on that it only seems to improve the more you listen to it.
It's a rare feat for artists to maintain a truly unique sound while taking their music in a direction that appeals to a wider audience. For those who've been following along for a few years, this is a groundbreaking record that condenses and amplifies Ariel Pink's most accessible tendencies. But the brilliant thing about Before Today is that no prior knowledge of his catalog is required. Newcomers can dig into this record and absorb all of these weird and wonderful songs now, and save the backstory for another day.
-- http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/14324-before-today/
av FalloutBoy » 2010-06-28 19:43
The opening seven seconds of Made The Harbor feature a brief guitar chord and the clearing of a throat (twice) – suggesting “settle down: we have something to share”. ‘Buffalo’ grows out of a simple guitar line, with the trio of Molly Erin Sarle, Alexandra Sauser-Monnig and Amelia Randall Meath building the first of their signature 3-part harmonies, joining the lyric “follow, follow, follow the buffalo” one-by-one. It’s so easy to forget the source of folk and blues music amidst the rattles and demands of the 21st Century existence, one of the numerous reasons why the simplicity of Mountain Man’s sound – three female voices, layered in a bluesy harmony, and an acoustic guitar – is so refreshing.
Made the Harbor is a tapestry of thirteen incredibly intimate songs, interweaving and concerning animals, nature, womanhood, and the turbulences of romance. The band’s creation occurred a small town in Vermont, when Amelia heard the sound of Molly playing ‘Dog Song’ in a shared house, demanding her to teach it to her. The version blessing this album is a quiet torrent of fear, love and anger (in that order) – worries of a lost dog and howling coyotes culminating in “hurry up baby / hurry up baby / or get out of my site”, taken from a whisper to a heart-torn declaration.
It’s a pursuit of joy that repeated surfaces through these songs – ‘Animal Tracks’ promises whispers in summer air, and seeking out “the bright baby eyes of a chickadee” in a harmony of delighted Americana. The divine vocal of ‘White Heron’, “draw me still”, halts the listener also; ‘Arabella’ is longing for strength in a desperate moment, dreaming for “lost mothers’ instruments”, trying to “keep your birthday and the car ride alive”; whilst “cool green Caroline” is observed delicately through the eyes of a lover on ‘Sewee Sewee’.
There are moments where folk is traded for something else, drawing differing moods into the record: the cover of The Mills Brothers’ 30s hit ‘How’m I Doin’’ is pure barbershop, ‘Babylon’ a melancholic psalm sung as a canon, retaining a baroque hint. The two changes of tone won’t necessarily win over the hearts of fans of quiet intimacies, but they don’t harm a record of this fine crafting, simplicity that rewards repeated listening – drawing one further and further in a hushed world of subtle tape hiss and away from digital age (or whatever it’s supposed to be). Mountain Man is a deservedly welcome addition to already-great Bella Union.
-- http://www.thelineofbestfit.com/2010/06 ... he-harbor/
av FalloutBoy » 2010-06-29 14:34
The charge often levelled at Johnny Flynn is that, while his music bleeds sincerity, his background as an actor brings that sincerity into question. Can we trust someone who made a living of trying on characters to sing honestly about his own? Is all that charisma masking an emotional con?
Flynn’s first album, A Larum, brought him and these questions to the public’s attention. A tightly-produced, classic-sounding record, it wove a fine line between honesty and riddles, offering profundity one moment, and whipping it away with rhyming games the next. Musically, it was also a paradox. A trad-folk aficionado, Flynn chose to record in grunge capital Seattle, and came back with a sound that was apparently all roots, but smacked suspiciously of the post-modern. An easy album to love, it came with an uneasy feeling that the love might lead to heartache.
Been Listening has no such problem. While still possessing the playful way with language and meaning that has become Flynn’s trademark, it has an openness not previously heard in his music. Perhaps he’s become more comfortable in his tastes, because there is less attempt on this album to dilute them with something cooler. That's not to say it's entirely rooted in one tradition. Johnny's second and third instruments, violin and trumpet, contribute, respectively, a cross between Penguin Cafe Orchestra and Latin folk, while a new drummer channels Nineties break-beat on songs like 'Churlish May' and 'Kentucky Pill'. Meanwhile, a musical debt to the Band and Neil Young gives the entire piece a sense of maturity and class, in particular the ham-fisted guitar solo that brings the title track to its climax.
The album flits from the questioning, low-key ballad to a mood you might call 'stomping', but at the centre of it lies a lyrical constancy not dictated by form. Flynn works within the story-telling folk tradition, but uses the format to write about himself, and it is here that, finally, the listener gains some insight into the who he is. Playful, reflective, searching, he comes across as a man on a journey, asking big questions, and weaving religious references and questions of self into his tales of pretty maids and jigs. It's fitting that Flynn should share a range with the great Will Oldham, as both have a knack of turning an internal monologue into something comforting for the listener, which is not to say that you don't feel sorry for the women in their lives.
This review would not be complete until it mentioned the stand-out track 'The Water'. A duet with Laura Marling, it's the kind of song you wish She & Him would write. Parked quietly in the centre of the record, it forms the apex for an album that is, if perhaps not musically radical, radical in its honesty. In making Been Listening simpler, and more imperfect than his first record, Johnny Flynn has held out a hand in a way he never did before. It sounds like the truth, and, this time, we know to believe him.
-- http://drownedinsound.com/releases/1543 ... ws/4140179
av zidanefromhell » 2010-07-17 11:52
av usling » 2010-07-19 16:56
av FalloutBoy » 2010-07-23 19:47
zidanefromhell skrev:Lågmält o fint på piano, Perfume genius - Learning
As anyone fortunate or canny enough to witness The Ascent of Everest’s symphonic post-rock in a live context can attest this Nashville eight-piece are something of a beautiful anomaly in the underground music world; producing delicate, sumptuously layered compositions that owe as much to the avant garde of classical music as to anything originating from the realms of rock, AOE weave their aural landscapes with a deft, elegiac grace that more often than not packs a real emotional punch.
‘From This Vantage’, the band’s second album, continues where its predecessor left off, deploying a range of unconventional instrumentation such as violin and cello to sidestep the typical constructional constraints of instrumental rock. Think of a more adventurous take on latter day Mono, or Jonny Greenwood collaborating with Sigur Ros... This is tremendously atmospheric, cinematic music that will probably beguile as many as it will charm. Interested readers are advised to listen through ‘From This Vantage’ from beginning to end, as these eight tracks together form an unmistakable journey, latter sections incorporating sparing bursts of heavy guitar to add an extra power to the album’s dizzying peaks and troughs. Ethereal vocals, unpredictable song structure; we can’t recommend that you check out The Ascent Of Everest enough if you’re after a challenging, intellectually and emotionally rewarding listen.
-- http://www.subba-cultcha.com/album-revi ... tID/19738/
av FalloutBoy » 2010-07-24 17:19
After a bit of a pause Isan return with this predictably lovely full-length transmission, their first in 4 years. Once again encapsulating the same elements they have spent more than a decade perfecting (1970's synth lullabies, percolated Casio rhythms and an unshakeably nostalgic aesthetic), spending 50 minutes in their company here will gently nudge you into a world of pastoral wonder and analogue electronic bliss. On "Device" their weltanschauung is perfectly distilled, painting delicate sound tapestries with quietly spiralling synth cascades and barely audible sound treatments flickering away in the background, while "Merman Sound" does little to disguise the beautifully handmade construction at work, introducing vintage percussive machinery to beguiling effect. There's something disarmingly childlike and primitive about the whole run of tracks here, by the time you get to the incredible closing track "Eastside V34" you barely even notice that some dislocated vocal samples have penetrated the pure and perfectly formed world Isan inhabit. If you've enjoyed the Hauntological fantasies of the Ghost Box label, in particular the Advisory Circle, or the strangely emotive synth works of Onehotrix Point Never, "Glow In The Dark Safari Set" will quickly find a treasured spot in you record collection, it is without question one of the loveliest and most charming releases of the year. Very highly Recommended.
-- http://boomkat.com/cds/298350-isan-glow ... safari-set
av zidanefromhell » 2010-07-30 16:11
av shifts » 2010-08-01 14:08
av zidanefromhell » 2010-08-02 12:38
shifts skrev:Brian Borcherdt - Coyotes @ Spotify.
Ett av de bästa album jag hört på riktigt länge. Ge de två första låtarna en
chans och gillar man inte efter det kan jag säkert säga att man inte gillar
resten. Låter ibland läskigt likt Nathan Amundson/Rivulets.
av slockna » 2010-08-02 15:39
av FalloutBoy » 2010-08-03 16:05
Den var mycket trevlig! Tack för tipset!shifts skrev:Brian Borcherdt - Coyotes @ Spotify.
Max Richter's music could broadly be classified as neo-classical, or ambient, or electro-acoustic chamber music. These descriptors give you an idea of his sound, but they don't tell you what the music feels like. So while I can recognize those generic touchstones, I hear Richter's music first as night music, sound that makes darkness feel alive. I don't tend to associate music with a mood or a time of day or a season, but I like to listen to his albums when I'm working late. I have an iTunes playlist called "That Feeling" (so-called because it's something I can't quite name), and it is 50% Richter. His music both captures a specific atmosphere and also feels internal.
Infra fairly brims with these qualities. Scored for piano, electronics, and string quartet, it's an expansion of a 25-minute piece Richter wrote for a collaboration with choreographer Wayne McGregor and artist Julian Opie. The latter contributed video projections of scenes from everyday life that ran behind the dancers. I can see how the music might complement the piece. His work has an amazing ability to interact with and elevate banality. It's not an uncommon trick to pair a mundane shot-- two businessmen shaking hands, someone cleaning out a garage, birds landing on a wire-- with slow and pretty music. But when it's done well, such juxtapositions still have the power to turn the everyday rigmarole we're seeing onscreen into something emotionally charged.
It's as though music allows us to see the melancholy or even futility of activities we take for granted. The more mundane the activity and the more achingly gorgeous the music, the more we feel the effect. And this music is achingly gorgeous. It's also uncomplicated. If one were to transcribe it, it would look childishly simple on the page: long, held notes, a few repeating phrases locked together, some strings working their way through a chord progression, note by note. But it's not the substance of the music that matters so much as the way it's all put together, and the way the composer understands timbre and what it can suggest. Here, on "Infra 7", Richter pulls the strings through electronic processing to give them a hollow, glassy tone that's completely at odds with the sound of vibrating strings bouncing off wood, the dominant sound of the rest of the album. And by setting you momentarily outside of the rich texture he's acclimated you to, he makes you feel all the more at home when it comes back, full bore, on "Infra 8".
I should note that the original inspiration for the whole collaborative project was T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land, a work of great power in its own right that has been over-referenced through the years, to the point where it can feel a bit old hat. But the Eliot poem falls by the wayside as a reference point as the piece progresses, and its haunted aura seems to have remained mostly as an echo in the music. Regardless, Infra works as an enveloping and moving work even absent any knowledge of its beginnings. Others may glean different feelings from it than I do, but that is part of the point. Even if it conjures nothing of the night for you, it is some of Richter's very best work. And if you've ever cared about his music, it will make you feel something.
-- http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/14452-infra/
av FalloutBoy » 2010-08-15 20:30
Brooklyn's Fang Island describe their aesthetic as "everyone high-fiving everyone." So it's appropriate that the band's website features a video of them jamming out with kindergartners and another with Andrew WK-- people so caught up in having a good time that you sometimes wonder if they're bullshitting you. What helps Fang Island steamroll past cynicism is how "fun" isn't just an ornament for them, it's embedded in the band's musical DNA.
Fang Island's self-titled second album is joyous despite its general lack of verses or choruses. It's fractured like any post-punk record while also speaking the language of classic rock, yet often feels like an intricate collage pieced together from elements that make songs memorable-- palm-muted power chords following wide-open intros, blistering solos, double-time outros. Pretty much all of that is crammed into the deleriously infectious "Daisy", an emphatic crossbreed of the Go! Team and the Promise Ring's "Is This Thing On?" The dance routine in the song's video feels like the only natural reaction to hearing it.
As Fang Island's entry point, "Daisy" might come on a bit strong, but what precedes it sets the tone perfectly. The record opens with fireworks (literally), before an armada of severely EQ'd guitar harmonics swoop in like fighter jets. The band then bursts into a dense chorus of four-part harmonies, earnestly intoning the WK-ish positive mantra: "They are all within my reach. They are free." Next comes "Careful Crossers", which has no words but would be shortchanged by being called an "instrumental" when such lyrical riffs pop up every eight bars.
Fang Island aren't total deconstructionists-- the see-sawing rhythms and stutter-step cadence of songs like "Life Coach" and "Treeton" wouldn't be out of place on a Spoon or Modest Mouse album. But unlike other pop craftsmen, Fang Island rarely give you any indication of what direction they might take. "Sideswiper" appears to settle into a Ted Leo-ish 12/8 stomper after its darting intro, until a sudden acoustic guitar and high-wire leads hints that the whole thing might just be one big riff on "Jack and Diane".
The music coordinators at MTV recently tapped "Daisy" to soundtrack a series of commercials for the reality show The Buried Life. The premise of the show-- "What do you want to do before you die?"-- is pretty corny, but Fang Island's exuberance is perfect for chasing dreams. While their manic musicianship and group-hug vibe may inspire more than a few comparisons to the badly missed Mae Shi, they aren't about proselytizing. This music is just honest and life-affirming and infectious, and it's that rare concentration of directness and simplicity that makes Fang Island so uniquely and wonderfully inclusive.
-- http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/14011-fang-island/
av phloam » 2010-08-22 01:51
FalloutBoy skrev:Crystal Castles - Crystal Castles (II) (2010, Fiction)
av phloam » 2010-08-26 12:58
av Alexi » 2010-08-26 13:10
Jag skulle kalla det minimal house, den når inte riktigt Trentemöller klass.phloam skrev:
http://open.spotify.com/album/6jXTNRWzksJSMTqUfcSSJM
Detta är riktigt njutbart, bortom stilar och genrer, bara en känsla av musikalitet som gör det svårt att sluta lyssna. Lägger tipset hör eftersom jag vill rekommendera hela plattan. Ett Fynd!
av Alexi » 2010-08-26 13:18
Oj det var avskalat, krävs rätt stämning för att komma till sin rätt, ska lyssna mer på honom och Rivulets.shifts skrev:Brian Borcherdt - Coyotes @ Spotify.
av shifts » 2010-08-26 14:42
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