Dive bars for churches.
Inseparability, entanglement,
theories of cowabunga and conjectures of gonzo.
Bottle caps and musks of old wood
and old man wood too.
Loneliness as triumph, smoke as possession,
as the thin touch of connection to now, as a damn good Bloody Mary recipe,
as morning confusing night for brother,
As peaceful turmoil on the rocks
because: easy come, easy go.
I think of Jerry Jeff and Dad.
I think of addictions conquered and torture borrowed,
liquor bravado become meek smiles — drooping like the reddest roses burned by the Texas sun.
There aren't blue jeans big enough for this package, this existential ass
Smoothed by hill country dirt and made shiny by imagination's tendency
to flirt with truth and loosen her...
Oh what we owe the beery humidity trapped in the distance between ears!
Here's not dysfunction, because there's no such thing.
Here's not a breaking heart, because our hearts are already broken:
Ourselves and Each Other
Riding the fog through a waking city, I endure the clammy clench and release of returning to that which truly matters, rudely courteous to the feigned reign of machine and warty madness. Maybe this means I'm finished paying respects to dead gods and washing my mystical hand in the spittle of paid dues, at the point of refusing to carve my heart out for the implacable behemoth of pragmatism. I won't continue erecting this defense against boyhood and blind joy, when all that's offered is mired expiring manhood and blind faith in safety in numbers. I'm exhausted and I haven't even begun to live, I've only carried a sad flag in a pointless and never-ending parade which must be the nightmare's way of proudly observing its own power through merciless intimations of unmastered malady. It's ok family. It's ok to sit close to me on this bus, to save up for a life you never get to live and plan a lasting love to begin after eternity. It's ok to be afraid with blood on your mouth and tears calming the ulcers in your stomach. It's ok too, to rage and consume, to work and sleep and dream of something more gigantic than work and sleep. It's ok if you forgot your favorite song, lost it in the hum of fluorescents or the din of need. It's ok because the utterances of desire checked at the imaginary gate of your misfortune are fresh and possessed of the glory of your pleasant wholeness. Watching you - my brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers - bent with a shallow purpose, I feel like screaming songs I knew before computer and waving a body I had before kingdoms and super sales, like standing on platforms crying and begging hugs, like going home to her clothed in a further nudity than nakedness and remembering how perfect everything already was before we got it in our restless heads to codify the tiny ecstatic logic of our love for ourselves and each other.
The Art of Science
The art of science is crush and pull. The art of science is distill and break down and purify into pragmatic nuggets. The art of science is not soul or glow but body and the hollow luminescence of a studied sun, figured to pointless supernova. The art of science is a pipette dream of a single perspective and a measured guard against the delight of significance. It's the myth of control and the pathetic arrogance of domination, the tired apparatus of progress slamming keyboards – examining probability in a beaker while life goes unchanced.
It's a never-ending argument for the excruciating necessity of war. It's a microscope when you wanted a moist eyeball. It's a cold vice grip while you're longing for the touch of warm hands. It's forward always, even when right here feels so right. It’s philosophy’s bastard child, come to take revenge against infinity’s elegant dance of endless possibility. It’s a master’s degree in place of self-mastery. It’s the pompous irrationality of rationality for your humble imagination and a blockade of prescriptions when you’re struggling for genuine wellness. It's a line for your squiggly visions and a defined spectrum for your wonder. It's the dry taste of "exactly" when you’re not permitted to feel "close enough."
The art of science is desolation named diversity and silence called the many voices. The art of science is the pressure of self-denial and the pleasure of disrobing Aphrodite to revel her plainness. The art of science is retreating into machines because being a human being just costs too damn much. It's refusal and a neutered song of intention, chasing chaos through the heavens, smoothing the perfectly imperfect eternal surface.
Big barrel bright bird broke in the black bleak blear of a beery evening spent moving. Small capacities, large capacities - room for everyone in the center of the mind. Alma y Cuerpo, truth and circus in the cussing tread of now. A black hole? So much color. A name for the future? Too many nights for noticing and forgetting. In fog, falling for fake fighting faithless fate in fugitive hours and towers like penises here to launch and posture-pose. I exhaust the softer roads, to go hard and wake up and explode.
To dance is to be wise. And to chance is to have further eyes, sometimes, than today. Are you content watching the ascending bird decay? There's mostly erupting, interrupting, and friendly corrupting left to welcome. But you can still choose to open elegant forevers and shake certainty like a stray blade of grass from your skirt.
If you can't start a battle of flowers, start a revolution of showers of love. There's no fiesta like your loud and confetti-frosted self-talks. No parades like the ones you dream, full of brights and blanknesses.
Bomba Estéreo: Julian Salazar, Liliana Saumet, Simón Mejía, Kike Egurrola. Photo by Rafael Piñeros - Mulato Films
SHOW: Échale! - Bomba Estéreo w/ M.A.K.U. Sound System @ Pearl Brewery, FRI 4.5.13, 7 PM
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In the music of Bomba Estéreo the sounds of the Amazon blend with the din of the sometimes happy human apocalypse, the hope of the futuristic meets the yellow softness of the Earth's aboriginal delight. These elements are embodied in the sonic flourish of the music as well as in the singular voice of singer Liliana Saumet — now gently searching like a stretch just reaching the sweet spot, now rapid and coy like the enraged spirit of a flower caught between the fright of consciousness and beautiful numb bliss. This is cumbia, this is dance, this is tropical, this is city, this is heart, this is sky... This is one if the best bands in the world right now, playing their wonderful new album Elegancia Tropical, and you can catch them for free right on the banks of the Riverwalk, among the flowers in the shadow of a dead brewery.
I asked Bomba Estéreo founder, producer and bassist Simon Mejia a few questions in anticipation of the upcoming Échale! performance. Here are those questions and Simon's thoughtful responses.
1. The music of Bomba Estéreo has been subtly expanding and morphing over the years. As a band, where do you all look for inspiration? How organic and how conscious are the changes and to what extent does your ever-growing audience play a part? In my personal case the inspiration comes from different places, can be music I hear, a live performance I see, a movie, an old record, even a place...but usually it comes when I'm working some sound or some beat inspires me for the next one and then I develop the whole track. It's the very best moment of creation I think when the music just rides for itself and you are just there putting the color to it. Playing live and having the great opportunity to meet different places and people also gives you a perspective, in our case, of looking at the traditional Colombian music from a different angle. This is what basically happened with Elegancia.
2. How are the songwriting duties divided in Bomba Estéreo? Are both music and lyrics collaborative
processes or do each of the band members tend to have set roles? It always starts with the music. A beat, a synth or guitar line, a bass line...then we develop it into a track, then the vocals make it a song finally. Usually I start the process, but in some other cases Julian [Salazar] comes in with a synth line or a guitar line also.
3. What is the significance of the title Elegancia Tropical? And to what extent do you consider decisions like titles important? It's our new way of looking at the Caribbean! A different perspective, a new stage in our music and our life. In Colombia the term elegancia is used also to mention when something is "cool," so it's like the cool tropic. We like to use popular and kitsch aesthetics in our music and language.
4. As a band with growing worldwide influence, what message would you send to the aspiring music maker in a corner of the globe that maybe doesn't get the attention it deserves? I think the most important thing is to be honest with the music you're making. Make the music you want to make, not what the market wants. And also work as twice as hard, art is a difficult one, maybe more difficult than any other.
5. What are your impressions of the San Antonio? Any favorite and/or least favorite aspects or places? Sure we think San Antonio is a great city! We've had great shows over there and this one we hope is the best. Our favorite hotel in the world is in San Antonio, it's called Hotel Havana, if I'm not wrong.
6. Lastly, what can we expect from your upcoming performance? Any new live configurations or significant developments since you were last here? Yes, sure, we're making the show just for Elegancia. It's a new set of songs, a new set of videos and new set of sounds! Hope people enjoy it! We're giving away all [our] energy!
way too long awakened in traps of light — too far open in the massive mass of night — too too deep in the shallow fallow womb of language, broke minded, counted down to absolute zero, ticking off in the trees of summer bleeding sappy into a night hairy with suspicion, emptiness is somthingess and somthingness is emptiness — void wasn't universe because something meant to change its ways — a reading of coward on godface, seven digits to infinity and the devil never got a word in edgewise. . . so the moments of divinity are measured in christbreaths and fishsighs alike, cradles are really graves to begin with in the tearful heaven where everything must occur — no matter.
the size of things makes the magnitude considerably less — more fabricated in the zone of moment and position, fragility surprised in the slippery shower of realization, which never resembles awakedness — the Buddha never existed luckily, because he needn't have.
the incident with the human soul at the crossroads of self and not was a manufactured death imposed by the willing witnesses of ego that consumes ego that does not — some symphony this is, eating and being the seeds of god becoming ideal, not-god.
Tapestries from the cave: Cave Singers release Naomi
Seattle foursome Cave Singers (Pete Quirk, Derek Fudesco, Marty Lund, and Morgan Henderson) may have flown under far too many radars, but they've been prolifically busy since their debut in 2007. Released today, Naomi is the indie folk-rock group's fourth LP. Like Invitation Songs, Welcome Joy, and No Witch before it, this record invokes the muddy blues-rock of CCR every bit as much as is does some nostalgic campfire folk reverie in yellows and blacks. Naomi finds Cave Singers sounding more sophisticated (read: more polish and less non-specific grit) and catchy (read: they're writing damn infectious songs) in their blending of heartland honey and hollering. Harmonica, melodica, bronzen crisp electric guitar, occasional coos, and comparatively reserved percussion surround the comfortingly sweet and nasal rasp of lead-singer Pete Quirk as he carries on about fading strands of maybe history, love, nature, and our vanishing natures for love. There are no hammer heavy songs on this record — like "Dancing on Our Graves" from Invitation Songs — but over the past few albums the band has moved to a brighter and fuller palette and doesn't have to rely on that kind of saturation to grab us. Particular album gems include "Have to Pretend" which slinks along dressed in a calm coo and a forceful lead vocal, "It's a Crime" which is a groovy steamroller of a track with a jagged 60's garage vibe, "Evergreens" which is Naomi's soul swaying in the moonlight candle of her restless eyes, and "Northern Lights" which is a gorgeously ornate song with soulful breakdowns and lyrics musing on isolation and triumph and love. Naomi is a statement in restraint, creative progress, and groundedness by a band that's doing what it does better than almost anyone else and that deservedly carries the freshwater purity of American folk-rock into a future full of electro-murk.
Go get Naomi... And the Cave Singers other three albums if you don't have them already. Below read my 10 Questions with singer Pete Quirk and listen to "It's a Crime."
You can stream the album HERE.
1. With bands, as with all things, history is an important dimension to consider. Please tell me a bit about the Cave Singers' collective and individual histories. As we are a collective of individuals, we are conjoined in the pupil of a metaphoric eye, that gazes upon life inquisitively. We are located under the gray blouse of the pacific Northwest, but a little history... Derek and myself originally hail from the East Coast, whereas Marty and Morgan are Washingtonian natives. In our previous lives we are convinced that as specks of light we shared the same leaf for an afternoon, but spoke none and went about our day. 2. As a follow up on the previous question, and by way of leading into the following one, what do you see as the tie between personal/cultural experience and creativity? In what ways do you see this element as a strength in a collective? To what extent is the band's sound collectively conceived? As a plant needs water, creativity/art needs experience. But I guess it is what we do with experience, do we learn from it? Or do we pile it up in the backyard never considering what lessons it may contain? Friendship is at the core of our beliefs as a collective/band of mortals. Underneath the storm swells of the music, we are indebted to a peace we find in one another, that usually results in laughter and mockery. But do not fret, we have a safety word if things get too hot in the kitchen/van. We experience as individuals; and process our days in different ways. As a band, we have found and continue to find a unified consciousness, that is a dimension we would not have access to on our own. 3. As the group's sound has gently grown and matured, from Invitation Songs to No Witch and now with Naomi, how has the process of creation changed and been refined? Musically? Lyrically? Has the gradual smoothing of the literal and figurative jagged edges been the result of a growing tranquility or a cleaner studio approach, or both? A constant state of change is upon us whether we like it or not, as far as refined? I’m not sure about that one. We seem to dress better. Tranquility, possibly from time to time. Also uncomfortability, heartsick, joy, wonder, agitation, lostness, redemption - happy to be there to endure, watching the sea chew on the shore. 4. What was the making of Naomi like? What interesting new challenges arose? What is the significance of the title? Also, will you address, from an aesthetic standpoint, the evolution in sound that this album represents. Sort of like setting up camp. I guess the whole deal was one big challenge, but we were dedicated to the idea that we were going to work as diligently as possible, without much reservation. Less weed butter and arguments over appetizers? No basketball or soccer, but fondly remembering as the sun went down. An incredible amount of gyro boy. Espresso machine! Essentially a disconnect from the world at large, to focus on the stage where our collective stories take place. Naomi laid on the tops of the trees at night burping out stars for us. 5. How would you describe this record, your previous records, and your music in general in terms of weather? Cloudy with a chance... 6. There are certain unique lyrical opportunities with music like yours, that tends toward a folky heart. Cave Singers lyrics have contained a lot of material about home, love and death. Please explain your lyric writing process. What level of importance is placed on lyrics? What themes do you feel most compelled to address and why? Overall, lyrics are very important to me. I find spoken language's relationship with music puzzling and ultimately fascinating. And I work at lyrics rather obsessively, with hopefully some economy and love. I gather they float somewhere between meaning and being and serve as human notes with some narrative purpose. The music and its demeanor steers what words/phrases and images seem to materialize while we’re jamming/writing, there’s something mysterious in their arrival that I don’t tend to question. If lyrics have a good sense of humor about themselves, they seem to be more likable. 7. I'm interested in musical influences, as well as other types of general influences. For this question — who are the strongest specifically musical influences on your work? For me it’s a mixed bag of musicians and writers. And also friends and families are influences, everyone out in the world is pitching in, and I try to do my part to pour some color into the stream. But today, I was listening to Neutral Milk Hotel, Kurt Vile, Paul Simon and Jana Hunter. Talk radio about snow tires. The wrapping up of a basketball game and few seconds of static. And I was reading some James Tate poems, the I Saw U’s in the weekly, some Pema Chodron and my electrical bill. What a day! Oh and I had a good to great Cobb Salad too! And I’m totally going bowling later... 8. Speaking more generally about influences, what other things influence how/what Cave Singers create? How have experiences with literature, philosophy, and the other arts shaped the music and the approach? Everything’s an influence in one way or another. I have been to a few dance/art performances lately, very inspiring. Zoe/Juniper a particular favorite. Exceptional in the friend department too. 9. A topic I have resolved to start bringing up with all the folks I talk to — I wonder what y'all's thoughts are about music downloading and the changing face of the music biz, philosophically and practically...? I don’t think about it much, to be honest. 10. I've always thought Cave Singers was a sweet band name. Will you talk about the meaning of that name.
It’s a little bit of light, that hides in the monkey’s paw.
When I heard that Thom Yorke had recruited Flea (along with Nigel Godrich, Joey Waronker, Mauro Refosco) to be a part of the live Eraser band and that new songs were in the works under the name Atoms for Peace, I was curious but skeptical — is this Thom's moment of irrelevancy? Then I heard those Echoplex recordings of the songs that had comprised one of my favorite albums of 2006... And I realized that, far from being a blunder into the realm of cliche, this was a way for Yorke to create in the vein of The Eraser — while building in some rhythmic dynamics and fullness of execution, the lack of which made The Eraser feel a little thin to some. These years later, we have Amok to consider.
Glitchy, dancey, and atmospherically dark 'meaning'-pop — just like it's younger sibling The Eraser — Amok feels like we've moved from hunting ghosts in an end of the world hotel room to hunting ghosts in a bombed out mansion under a strobing moon. With six songs of five minutes or more, in a nine track album, this album is both more spacious and more populous than Yorke's first non-Radiohead work. Lyrically, we get what we might expect here: nebulous meditations on loss and alienation, cryptic musings on life as a dying machine in a contentedly doomed world. Yorke is preternaturally obsessed with decrepitude, waste, paranoia, conspiracy, disillusionment, war, futurism, human feeling in a cold environment, and loss of identity... In fact, I can't think of a single piece of music that he has created or contributed to which lacks his default awed (and odd) moroseness, whether in musical or literary tone (or both).
Amok starts at a rainy run with "Before Your Very Eyes," which buries us in falling treble and heartbeat bass while Yorke's naked and wiry voice keeps hauntingly insisting on the refrain "Sooner or later, before your very eyes." The album's lead single "Default" is a lurching and syncopated affair that, as seems to be a theme with Atoms for Peace, sweats and laments and pokes fun at itself all at once. "Ingenue" delivers chills via a creaking alarm of a lead melodic phrase that drifts in and out like a memory of some tragedy still smoldering. Inaudibly moaning vocals, thick but fairly staid bass passages, and — as on the rest of the album — skittish percussion complete "Ingenue," which is my favorite track on Amok. The album's back end is more sultry and more ethereal in tone and movement, with the high point being the dilapidated and disillusioned "Judge, Jury, and Executioner." From the initial deep breath that momentarily precedes the first track to the nostalgically innocent and unsure piano notes that end the final track, Amok is about as searchingly playful a look at general demise as one could ever hope to glean. Yorke seems to become younger as he deals more directly with his own vulnerability and the strange ways in which his own myth can undercut even his most serious proclamations, warnings, and complaints.
The collaborative element that separates this record from The Eraser has served to release Yorke from the burden of the idea of 'the solo project' and given him the freedom to, paradoxically, be far more himself. If you think that these tracks could fit just fine within the scope of the Radiohead catalogue you are probably right... But that just goes to show to what great extent that is his (and perhaps also Godrich's) band. So basically... let's let him do whatever he wants and just hope he keeps moving fast enough to outrun his own time and the demons he seems to see everywhere.
Check out THESE awesome videos of the group live back in 2010 at Fuji Fest. I feel like they really exemplify what Yorke wants this project to be for him and for us.
Here are my forty favorite songs of 2012, organized in such a way that I think flows best sonically and thematically, and mixed by the mad talented kaziali. The far out art was created by Carlos Castro, who also created the 'branding' (fuck that word) for this site, and was made to fit both the mix title and the overall impact of the song set. Taken as a whole, this is what 2012 felt like to me. Better late than never. Track listing in the comments. Cheers.
Disclaimer: Grizzly
Bear has my undying loyalty and love. Mitigating facts: they have said loyalty
and love because their sound leaves nothing in my musical appetite unsatisfied,
because they know when to push and when to float, because they do not make
aesthetic blunders, because their sound is defined by careful attention to
detail without the baggage of needing to be innovative simply for the sake of
innovation... Because they are loyal to their unique and subtly morphing
vision, no matter what... And because that vision rests preposterously between
limitless emotion and musical precision. Shields, Grizzly Bear's fourth album,
encapsulates all of these elements and builds upon them with a disarming vocal
directness and a new simplicity that shows the band realizes the beauty and penetrating
quality of complexity decoded in clarity. Album closer “Sun in Your Eyes” is
perhaps my favorite song from my favorite band.
II. Woods Bend Beyond - BUY IT. Exuberant, sweet, and bonier than you'd have ever have expected; Woods' seventh record is their most fully realized work to date. As such, Bend Beyond seems an extremely apt title for this release. Mesmerized from the very beginning by the crests and falls and washed out suns and freshwater moons of Bend Beyond's twelve tracks, I (and this is not meant to be any kind of a dig on the group's past efforts) found myself caught off guard by how perfect every note, every drum flurry, and every uncharacteristic psychedelic guitar breakdown rang in my ears starved for a taste of the great mystical summer while trapped in the frozen annals of work-a-day proceedings. Something about this album exemplifies a kind of willful vulnerability and forceful gentleness that is so important to me in my thought and endeavors. I may not have listened to Bend Beyond more than some of the eight albums below, but I was touched and inspired by it perhaps more than any other on this list. Dig the soft yellow of the title track, the smoky nervousness of “Find Them Empty”, and the smoothly jangling angles of “Size Meets the Sound”… You’ll understand.
III. Frank Ocean channel ORANGE - BUY IT. Channel ORANGE is a huge record. This is important shit... This PoMo soul, this bright dark cityscape pastiche, this emotionally charged music for teaching our babies well. All obvious implications and think piece ruminations aside — Frank Ocean's second album (first proper), set into hot orange with the flames of an unprecedentedly candid and powerful confession, works as an album better than any offering on this list. Beginning in nostalgic noise, rising to the heights of romantic and brotherly love, and throbbing with spirit-pain and self-wisdom throughout; Channel ORANGE has something for every music lover, for everyone — in fact — who loves anything or anyone. "Thinkin Bout You", "Super Rich Kids", "Sierra Leone", "Bad Religion", and "Pink Matter" are personal favorites — but I reckon I'd be happy stranded within almost any of this album’s blood-thick and exquisitely-lit tracks. For more, peep THIS longer review I did for KINDFORM when the album came out.
Claire Boucher is a badass of steadily burgeoning proportions. Hers is a fairy tale that begins with bedroom dance/electro, continues with festival-sized rave-bangers clothed in the magnetic spirit of r&b, and has no end in sight. My favorite album tracks "Genesis", "Oblivion", "Eight", "Be a Body", and "Symphonia IX" sparkle with a fever-sheen... A radiant heart of pure leaping neon darkness, weird enough for the bored adventurer and bootylicious enough for pretty much everyone else. Visions is a postmodern masterpiece from a futuristic sonic sorceress. I assured myself back in January 2012: "this is rad — but I'll be tired of it soon."
Oh hiphop... Just when I'm ready to give up on you for the hundredth time, something like this happens. Actually, to be fair, nothing like THIS exactly has ever happened... But you always find a new way to access my inner fed-up-ness and buried desires toward that which would see our society burn. From one of Duality's instant classics "The Ritual"... "Livin in the city made my own mind my nemesis" is, for me, the mantra of Flying Lotus' masked alter-ego Captain Murphy. A hiphop fan since I held that first LL Cool J cassette tape back in '88, I kinda imagine that we all have a rapping super hero (or anti-hero) inside of us somewhere and that this particular self is at odds with the world and its meek practical concerns. Basically, I haven't been able to put these songs away since the first perfect one arrived in the form of Adult Swim single "Between Friends" featuring Earl Sweatshirt. While the album's visual companion may be a bit tough to get through, it is interesting as a piece of art and... Bottom line... there's not a weak track on Duality. Be careful though — "Shake Weight", "Between Friends", and "The Ritual" (in particular) will haunt you. And so will those snippets of ACTUAL cult leader bros.
VI. Dent May Do Things - BUY IT. As much as I love ukulele and hammy folk tracks about Michael Chang and cougar lovin... I'm glad Dent May took a total left turn with his second album Do Things. While admittedly singularly befitted to bumping and lazing summertime escapades, this album carries a timeless message of freedom from 'the expected life' and features some gorgeously deadpan emotive pop stylings sure to brighten any season. "Rent Money" is, in all its despondent-meets-groovy glory, one of my absolute favorite songs of the year. Other specific reasons this album is wonderful include Dent’s honey-coated croon (part country and part Brian Wilson), the playful way in which the lyrics toy with very serious coming-of-age issues, and the manifesto of a generation song “Parents”. For more of my thoughts on this record check out some stuff I did for the SA Current HERE and HERE.
VII. Clams Casino Instrumentals 2 - GRAB IT. You can call these hip-hop instrumentals if you must, but for my money these nuggets of glazed bass and poignant murk are — like Michael Volpe’s first such collection as Clams Casino — complete songs, complete crawling and swirling worlds unto themselves. If providing these 'beats' for rappers like Lil B and A$AP Rocky first is the best way the Clammy One has found to release these pristine grooves to the world for free, then I'm all for it... But let's be honest: it's a tall task to do these thumping and swooningly ruminant tracks service with braggadocious rhymes or weed flows. When in doubt in 2012, this album was quite the juicy default. Whether summer lovin, back to work bus contemplating, Friday night celebrating — even while my High School students were composing essays... This album was ubiquitous in my life this year.
VIII. Dirty Projectors Swing Lo Magellan - BUY IT.
Well shit. It has long been hard for me to imagine a Dirty Projectors release that didn't take my breath away and captivate my thirst for alien experience. And that streak continued this year. Some of Dave Longstreth and Co's work has been more experimental than other, but they always bring a fresh perspective on songwriting, vocal delivery, harmony, and spatial arrangement. Swing Lo Magellan is an album of grooves, soaring and serious contemplation, and harmonic fury... But that's all par for the course. What makes this album truly great is that it is, unlike any of the group's other work, a perfectly balanced cycle of songs. There's nothing here to stifle the joy of a casual encounter, yet the DPs seem to have given up very little of their signature musical vision. Standouts include "Gun Has No Trigger", "About to Die", "Just from Chevron" and the delightfully late-60s-Dylanesque title track and "Impregnable Question". See also: my review of Swing Lo Magellan for the SA Current.
IX. Tame Impala Lonerism - BUY IT. When sectors of the hype-o-sphere lauded Tame Impala's first record Innerspeaker a few years back, I couldn't hear why. It turns out that, among other possibly more bullshitty reasons for this, they were hearing the band's promise — evaluating their potential energy rather than their kinetic. Lonerism certainly realizes, and goes well beyond, any potential that could have been gleaned from that initial release. Sounding occasionally as if recorded inside of an aluminum can, the guys could have used a touch more production realism and less magic... But that doesn't stop Lonerism's sturdy yet dreamy gait from getting the band exactly where they need to be. "Mind Mischief", "Feels like we Only Go Backwards", and "Elephant" are divergent examples of the craft and inspiration that was poured into this record. Can they make another album this innocently nostalgic and simultaneously current? Can they create this tension between edge and softness again? Let's just enjoy the moment for now.
Listening to iamamiwhoami's debut gives me the sensation of hearing the ghosts of solo songstresses past confess dead loves and lost promise over the simmering murk and glitch of a supercomputer's death throes. I'm drawn to mystery more than perhaps anything else in life, so it's natural that I was intrigued by Swedish artist Jonna Lee's alter-ego from the beginning, before we knew who had made this peaceful apocalypse in strobe. But gradually, the clarity and warmth leaking out between the machinery of these electronic songs proved to be the true reward. Like any good characters in any given post-apocalyptic nightmare, it is fitting that we should cry along with cyborgs like iamamiwhoami, who represent the fusion of our fears and hopes with the technology we now trust with everything we are. Kin is beautiful and unsettling from start to finish, but for quick listening I recommend "Sever", "Play", and "In Due Order". Also, don't forget to spend some time immersed in the almost Lynchian world of the videos. See an extended review I did of KinHERE.
Heartland heavy mystic sing-alongs of ray gun folk, space-faced neighbor music, blues from other moons...
Stories about our dads from the radioactive future, remembering journey from journey, pouring out water and black hole reverb over the actual electronics of going home.
Country for the barely there, folk for the bedroom age; waking in the communal living room mess of our internet. Pain and the musings of those who feel the best of human pain: unphysical, omnipresent, and truly sublime. All the old voices you wore, and callously tore, are the voices behind your voice when you tremble at the gates of really seeing. Oh Nashville of my dead livers and Nashville of the bored moon in my eyes. Oh telepathy, fill me with the nourishing voices of the billions carving canyons like water in the rock I won't be forever.
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Thanks to Saint Julien for humoring my curiosities about his curiously arresting music. Get it for that next lonely night or long ride through the myriad highway tunnels leading inside to always.
If you like it... let him know: fieldmusiccollective@gmail.com
