New Music Tuesday 2/9: Yeasayer, Hot Chip
February 9, 2010
Yeasayer – Odd Blood
If 2010 ended today, Odd Blood would be my album of the year, and for the exact reasons I’ve picked my last three album-of-the-years. This isn’t a record that blows everything away, it’s no Yankee Hotel Foxtrot or Kid A, it’s more subtle and slowly discloses its magic over time. Upon first couple listens, it’s good, and after a few more, it’s spectacular. Each song plays well off the others, and once a familiarity with the entire album is made, they gel together as a very impressive whole.
For those who remember Yeasayer’s last album as an indie collage of world sounds and folk songs, be warned of the differences. This assimilates new wave and noise-pop as thoroughly as their first album did with ethnic rhythms and arrangements. The differences in their efforts is that this time around, the ambition (and consequential risks) feel bigger and the payoff is more fruitful; it’s, quite simply, just more exciting overall.
It’s already been on steady rotation for me since I got a copy of it in early January and I don’t really see that changing soon.
****
Hot Chip – One Life Stand
It’s pretty easy to say you won’t find a more prolific electronic music act working today than Hot Chip. They’ve made consistently good dance records that double as artsy, meaningful song cycles that dart gracefully from memories of childhood, fears and hope for the future, past lovers and (in this case) present ones. The title track of the album weaves clever opposing ideas of a seedy quickie to lifetime love, and musically parallels this with minor-chorded synths underneath while slow, major-keyed steel drums fight to steer the song onto more positive ground. The layers here are amazing, and is one of the most satisfying songs I’ve ever heard from Hot Chip. This sets up the second half of the album with a much more intimate sound, leaving behind the heavier electronic sounds. From start to finish, one of their best LPs they’ve made, and a must-hear for 2010.
****
Other 2/9 releases: Fear Factory, Phantogram, The Watson Twins, tobyMac, Galactic, Sade, Massive Attack
Sorry, Avatar, It’s Nothing Personal. We Cool, Right?
February 3, 2010
From The Director of Titanic, and The Man Who Now Owns 73% of The World
In the beginning, there was the hype. James Cameron has a new movie idea, geeky blogs informed me. It’s gonna be epic, said some Hollywood execs. George Lucas is crapping himself, myself told myself. Well… I assumed he would, both because of the scope of Cameron’s inventiveness and because Lucas is a quadrogillionaire and can afford to crap his pants if he so chooses. He has hired people who will clean it up, and get paid enough to be happy while they’re doing it. I mean, Lucas must have magic diapers that us poor folks don’t even know about, made from a secret NASA fabric that absorbs and cushions and…anyway…
Then came the non-stop trailers, the bombardment of movie updates and news, and the *shudder* omnipresent Fox ads. It was everywhere, and honestly, I wasn’t all that stoked for the movie.
Let’s clear something up right here before we go any further. I’m not what you’d call a huge sci-fi/fantasy nerd. I enjoy the occasional spaced-out alien flick or massive nature quest, but for the most part I’m not a fan. I’ll watch for the sake of watching more often than for the sake of my quivering loins. Nothing wrong with them, I just don’t relate most of the time.
So anyway, yeah, not that excited. Then came the inundation of recommendations. It started with acquaintances at work. “Hey, have you seen Avatar? It’s amazing!” Ok, sure, but a lot of the peeps I work with tend to go for lowest common denominator schlock, so that didn’t tip off my awesome-movie radar. Then came some closer friends’ praise for the film. I got a text message that said, “Love it or hate it, you have to see Avatar in theatres!” Another friend said I’d loathe myself forever if I missed it. And these were people I trusted. The radar’s needle started to shake. And then, to cherry up my persuasion sundae, came the critical reviews. Now, I have a complicated love/hate relationship with critics; I’ve often misappropriated critical respect with personal taste and been burned many times by their musings of a certain film. But this was almost unanimous praise. In fact, a local reviewer who hardly ever gives movies positive ratings gave it four out of four stars, and said it was one of the best films he’d ever seen. In other words, this movie should be a slam dunk for me, right? *raspberry* Not exactly.
Saying my expectations were kind of high when I walked into that theatre would be like saying that Heidi Klum is kind of attractive. They were enormous, high enough to break through the ceiling, reach into the black sky and slap a Russian astronaut. They were so gigantic, in fact, that I began to think I was actually going to see something fantastic and original in the way of filmmaking, and not just a bunch of really-good CGI. Oh, the disappointment. Oh, the mediocrity. Oh…the boredom.
Yeah, boredom. The story was so underwhelming, the characters so drab, the dialogue so uninspired, I actually couldn’t bring myself to care what else was going on. The stunningly beautiful world I was promised was overshadowed with a futurized version of Disney’s Pocahontas and a preachy agenda. How was I supposed to concentrate on how breathtaking the landscapes were when I could literally predict each of the film’s next scenes? Uh-oh, paralyzed soldier guy is in the blue man group’s village. They’re skeptical of him, and naturally he develops a rival who doesn’t believe in him until the end battle. Ooh, soldier boy is hittin’ it off with that blue lady. I’ll bet they fall in love, get it a fight, and reunite in the end when he proves himself loyal to her tribe. That mean old army man doesn’t understand the villagers, he’s just concerned about profit and doesn’t care about nature. Oh-noes! Soldier boy’s secret is revealed! “Sure, it started as a cover, but I really have grown to love you and your people! It’s real now!” But the villagers and their chief don’t believe him? How shocking! (and so on, and so on)
"Geez I hate nature. Almost as much as I hate sharin' my feelings..."
Of course, once I calmed down and wiped the splattered high expectations off my face, I gave it fair critique. Visually, the film is cool. It’s done something that no film before it has ever done with CGI and special effects and is sure to be a catalyst for the future. But the vessel that’s used to get there is awfully shoddy. It’s, in affect, a movie with groundbreaking technical merit that completely overlooks the real artistry. Yes, creating a gorgeous jungle with imaginary creatures and a whole eco-system is wonderful, and artistic. But that’s like taking a brand-new Lamborghini and ripping off the tires. It might be pretty but it won’t get you anywhere. And this movie certainly didn’t get me anywhere.
Now I’m perfectly fine with all the money it’s taken in. It’s a theatre movie to beat all theatre movies. And it’s a popcorn-flick to boot, those always do well at the box office. I’m not bitter about its attention, success, or even it’s all-but-assured Oscar sweep. What I do take umbrage with is the fact that I can’t bring it up in mixed company and talk about points I didn’t like without people assuming I’m a hateful, Satan-worshiping garbage dumpster. To not like this movie is to not like your grandma. EVERYONE loves the movie, EVERYONE found it to be splendid, and EVERYONE thinks it’s worthy of a goldmine full of trophies. The friends I usually cling to for skeptical, harsh criticisms of bad movies wanted to spread Avatar on their toast every morning. The professional critics so used to crushing ambitious filmmakers with complaints of plot holes and bad acting accepted Avatar as their lord and savior and started attending its church every Sunday. The people who didn’t like Avatar, so few-and-far-between, might as well have been angry curmudgeons whose opinions and intelligence meant about as much as the dried-up gum stuck underneath the theatre seats of which they unworthingly sat. Exaggeration? Only slightly.
So while I wait for my pissed-off, Avatar-loving friends to make contact with me again, I’ll just say this. It’s nothing personal, Avatar. You didn’t poop in my bed or pour bleach in my mouth while I was sleeping. You did nothing to me, and I don’t hold it against you. But for the love of quantum mechanics, couldn’t you have at least thrown in a twist? Like Joel David Moore could have secretly been evil and plotting against the blue-skinned jungle babies, or Giovanni Ribisi could have shown up at the last moment and thrown a frickin’ spear. For crap’s sake, man, something like that. Whatever, I’m done. Have a good one, Avatar. Enjoy building that shelf for all your thirty-seven Oscars.
New Music Tuesday 1/26: Beach House, Magnetic Fields, Citay
January 26, 2010
Beach House – Teen Dream
Admittedly, I was a bit late to the Beach House bandwagon-jumping party. While critics all but universally praised their ‘08 release Devotion, I was underwhelmed by its casio-toned, minimal arrangements and slow-moving dream pop. Ironically enough, the exact reasons why I love Teen Dream. The album starts with a hushed guitar and vocals and rarely climbs above this audible peak with anything more than percussion or synths. The Baltimore duo doesn’t even attempt sounding any bigger than its modest size, and doesn’t need to due to the strength of each cut, as each song slowly unfolds like an atlas until the melody runs its course. This is a record that attracts, and demands, several sittings, and another strong album for so early in the 2010 year.
****
The Magnetic Fields – Realism
The most challenging tasks involved in digesting each Magnetic Fields album are also its greatest strengths: the fractured rhythms, heady lyrics, classical arrangements and accompaniments. No doubt about it, Stephen Merritt is a fantastic songwriter. But it can also be off-putting, if not a little grating, trying to work the group into a normal music rotation. You really have to be in the right mood.
Good news is Realism is a lot less demanding than their previous, aptly-named Distortion. There’s the familiar eccentricities of i and the stand-alone ballads of 69 Love Songs. Where it lands in the canon of work is yet to be seen, but from what I’ve heard, it’ll be somewhere near the top.
****
Citay – Dream Get Together
This is one of my first run-ins with Citay, but so far they’ve been an awfully enjoyable group. Their new album mixes psychedelic with classic rock while somehow never leaving the confines of the breezy pop song. I’ve been through the album once, and will certainly listen again, and so far have nothing but praise for the San Francisco mini-jam band.
****
other 1/26 releases: Los Campesinos!, Corinne Bailey Rae, Patty Griffin, David Bowie (live), Four Tet, Tindersticks, Animal Collective (reissue), Basia Bulat, Mr. Gnome
How I Learned To Stop Worrying About The Vikings And Love The Losing
January 25, 2010
So there I was again, screaming at the television in what would usually be considered an inappropriate volume. Room-temperature, half-eaten appetizers strewn about the living room coffee table doomed to never be consumed. My roommate occasionally emerging from his room with slightly sardonic comments like, “this is why I don’t follow football,” and “you’re going to have a stroke.” Me, a mere two hours ago filled with the hope and foolish dreams of my boys in purple trotting out onto the Miami sod, now fraught with that familiar feeling of disappointment, anger and futility. I pressed the power button on the cable box only seconds before that damning, game-ending field goal soared through the yellow uprights. I already knew what was going to happen.
For the next hour or so, I did what most Minnesota sports fans do after a big loss: I looked for someone to blame. In my head, it sounded like a middle-aged woman from Brooklyn. Stupid refs, buncha Saints-lovin’ cheaters. Stupid offense, couldn’t stop turnin’ over the ball to save their life. Stupid Childress, what a gutless schlamiel! But this never lasts long, and soon I was back to the self-loathing that comes from questioning my own loyalty and whether or not it’s time to jump off the bandwagon, followed by rampant, philosophical self-analyzation (which sounded like Will Ferrell’s James Lipton). Do I really hate losing, or do I just hate the uncertainty of it all? Am I a strong enough person to accept rooting for mediocre sports franchises, or do I need success to justify it? Does it hurt because I love the team or because it’s a perverse version of how I see myself and my own seemingly-hopeless endeavors? Yikes.
In the end, out of the whole psychological mess, I draw these conclusions:
- Sports mean absolutely nothing in real life. Nothing. Hey, you hear about that record Peyton Manning broke? Who cares. How about that great play on Sports Center? Pssch. The Steelers won the Super Bowl! Yawn. Really, think about it. We make such a big deal about who did this and what team won that, when really, why do we care? Sports are, ultimately, entertainment. They’re something to talk about, something to occupy our time. In the long run, the number of touchdowns Chris Johnson ran for doesn’t mean a thing to Haiti earthquake survivors or to starving kids in Africa. Not to get all bleeding heart-y all of a sudden, but a lot of the things we hold to be so important will mean nothing in the light of eternity. Sports can teach valuable lessons to us, but they’re just another job to the athletes who play them, and the stats compiled mean nothing in real world measurements. Speaking of valuable lessons…
- If sports in general teach us anything, it’s that losing is a part of life. Get used to it. Yeah, I know, a million minivan-driving soccer moms might think it’s best to let everyone win and not hurt anyone’s feelings, but that’s a horribly-unrealistic message. Get out there, put yourself on the line, work hard and give it your best shot, and guess what? You could be a miserable failure your whole life. It’s cruel and heartbreaking and even a little unfair, but fairness is for cowards. Put that crap on a t-shirt.
- Living vicariously through anything, especially sports teams, is unhealthy. Like the guy with the season tickets, jerseys, memorabilia and satellite TV package with all the special sports channels who trolls message boards waiting to rip on anyone who thinks his team sucks. That guy probably lives and dies with his team. He probably talks trash at his job and carries on heated debates with rival fans. He also probably doesn’t like himself very much. It’s a little cliched, and a bit of a stereotype, but all stereotypes carry some kernel of truth to them, otherwise where would they have come from? Total misconceptions? Doubtful.
Yeah. So with that, the loss doesn’t seem so bad anymore. The Saints won, good for them. I’ll wake up Monday morning, just like every other day. Go to work, just like every other day. Hate my unfulfilling job, just like every other day. A Vikings win wouldn’t have changed any of that. Their success doesn’t equate my success. Life goes on. And now I have time to focus on more important things. Like hockey season! *canned laughter*
New Music Tuesday 1/19: Spoon, Eels, Charlotte Gainsbourg
January 19, 2010
Spoon – Transference
Spoon is still in a sort of musical purgatory as a band, not obscure enough to fly under the radar but also without a breakthrough mainstream moment ala Death Cab or The Shins. (Even though Stranger Than Fiction came pretty close to exposing their awesomeness to the masses) In some ways, this is almost reassuring. It’s nice to see them assembling a healthy fan base while still being able to fully choose the sort of music that goes on each LP as opposed to some stereotypical, wealthy fat-cat record tycoon: I imagine Texas guy from the Simpsons, big cowboy hat and two six-shooters blasting whimsical bullets in the air while shouting, “I hate the noise on track six, and why not add some hand claps to the opener?? Yeeeeeeeeehawwwww!”
Not the case on Transference, in fact, this is a record that sports the double threat of being both entirely satisfying for long-time fans while being something a noob could totally sink his fledgling teeth into and appreciate. It won’t be their ticket to a ten-album multi-million dollar deal from Warner Bros., but it’s exactly what you want to hear from a Spoon album. And that’s just fine, as I imagine an underwhelmed Britt Daniel and co. ascending the stage on Grammy night, just after Taylor Swift and Black Eyed Peas, speaking a sardonically-charged acceptance speech, “Wow, uh, thanks. This is…this is really cool,” wouldn’t be all that fulfilling. Imma let you finish, but nah.
****
Eels – End Times
No real surprise here. An album from Eels about heartbreak and divorce. An ominous, old-man E on the cover. The end of his life and the end of his relationships. At some point, we’re supposed to care about this right?
To be fair, the album does its job. It’s thought-provoking and, conclusively, a bit of a downer. But I’ve become bored with E’s music. His heart is in the right place, but I couldn’t find a huge difference between his conceptual album about desire and (a mere six months later) an album essentially about the results and downfall from it. It’s all sad, all downtrodden, and a bit repetitious. There’s a lot to take in here, it just might feel like the same stuff you’ve been taking in for a while.
****
Irm – Charlotte Gainsbourg
Honestly, I wouldn’t have taken the same notice of this album had it not been produced, co-written by and featuring Beck. I’m a Beck Hansen whore, I’ll admit it. It’s a page right out of Modern Guilt, with a more melancholy, ethereal-bent. But this isn’t a case of all-star writer/producer imposing his will upon and shifting another artist’s sound. On the contrary, Gainsbourg’s last album had already traveled down this gossamer path, and Beck simply further fleshes it out, their styles fitting together like Lego bricks. It’s a super album.
Oh, and it also helps having a dandy, ear worm of a first single + entrancingly-gorgeous companion video for all the music blogs to talk about. Check.
****
other 1/19 releases: Cold War Kids (EP), Lindstrom & Christabelle, RJD2, Dawn Landes (US), Danny Barnes, Shapes Stars Make, Aziz Ansari
