Ehroehed is Lonny Potter, who records music in British Columbia, apparently to give away to his friends. Erik Ratcliffe is a nice person from somewhere, wherever, who dropped Ehroehed in our Suggestion Box. If I knew Lonny Potter personally, I’d tell him to burn a disc of his music to give to Erik Ratcliffe because, you know, that whole sharing the sharing thing. Plus, it’s gonna be the holidays, so let’s all be Lonny’s friends, yeah? Like Will Oldham in the Palace days, Ehroehed reminds me that there are plenty of weirdos out there making beautifully strange songs just for the hell of it (and for that I’ll count my blessings).
Blue Bone Express
I often wonder what kind of music my children will end up listening to. When I was their age I was fed a steady diet of The Beach Boys, The Carpenters, Bee Gees and Roger Miller, so my parents were understandably distraught when the sounds of Dead Kennedys’ Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables blasted out of my room. I had a peek into my future when I mentioned to my son that if he kept practicing the piano and clarinet he’d soon be playing music like the punk rock that was shuffling through the car stereo at the time. “No dad,” he said, “I want to play in the Disneyland band.” Well, thanks to Patti Bao, one of our fine readers, I’ve found possible musical mentors for the kid. Straight outta Oakland, Blue Bone Express — nothing but lively traditional Dixieland jazz here. Look, I’m always worrying that he’ll end up bringing home a pan flute, or let his appearance deteriorate like this, so I am extremely relieved at his choice of aspirations.
Gotye
Gotye is Aussie one-man band Wally De Backer who, like his fellow countrymen The Avalanches, humanizes bedroom beats, quirky samples, and the odd live instrument and weaves them into epic pop structures. I guess it’s summer down under, which would explain the decidedly upbeat tone of these preview tracks from his forthcoming LP.
Au Revoir Simone
So long, Simone! Have a nice Thanksgiving in Brooklyn. (I’ll probably get yelled at by our loyal fact-checking readership, who will remind me that none of the three women in this band is named Simone.) I’d love to spend my T-day in Brooklyn, or listening to Verses Of Comfort, Assurance and Salvation — which the Japanese consider to be “8 tracks of perfect lo-fi synth pop” — but it looks like I’ll be at home with just one song by Au Revoir Simone to ease me through my tryptophan hit.
Speaker Speaker
I thought I’d impress the lady and take her up to L.A. to see a rock and roll show. It’d been too long since we’d got our rock on. We were on the guestlist and everything. We had a babysitter and everything. As we were getting on the 405 at 7pm on Friday night I knew we were in trouble. Traffic. Long story short: missed the show, did a quick shopping spree at Amoeba, replaced a Housemartins (The People Who Grinned Themselves To Death) CD that we’d lost, and sang-along to it all the way home while sucking down milkshakes from In ‘N’ Out. Not a bad night after all. Probably, because, unlike Speaker Speaker, I was right when I picked my girl. We still share a similar taste in music years down the road. And like you, it’s safe to assume, we’re still listening to music fanatically when many of our friends have given up on it, or somehow, unexplicably, started listening to Top 40 Country radio. Speaker Speaker shares The Housemartins and Joe Jackson’s youthful exuberance that too many people lose when they hit their late 20s/early 30s. Don’t let it happen to you.
Dog Traders
Drew is from Columbus, Ohio. He draws comics (Toothpaste for Dinner) and makes music (Dog Traders). You probably already know that. Prior to Jason B.’s suggestion, I may have been the only American of my particular demographic to have slept on Drew’s wicked ballpoint funnies. I may be in broader company by saying I’d never heard his sandblasted garage pop either. But that, too, has changed and I’m a better man for it. Drew’s distant, mumbled vocals remind me at times of J. Mascis or Michael Stipe on REM’s circa Murmur. His lyrics are as odd, clever, and compelling as you would expect from the man who brought you this. Not only is the music good, it’s free. All of the songs on Dog Traders’ A Panic in a Pagoda is available as a downloadable .zip file on Drew’s site (though at $7 I’d recommend buying a copy of the packaged CD, if only to get your hands on the lyrics).
Jupiter One
I’ll admit to occasionally hatin’ on NYC bands, usually of the gratuitously post-punk variety, what with their fashionable arrogance and snarls of prissy posturing. But, these days, it appears that “fun” is the new black. Case in point, Jupiter One, whose bounce-on-the-balls-of-your-feet numbers can stand tall alongside new wave forefathers like The Cars with nary a double-take. Lead singer K’s low tenor is as crisp as a starched white shirt and he can dodge canned guitar riffs (that’s a compliment), B-movie synth sounds, and even an electrified violin much the way Dave Derby did in the Dambuilders. All of it makes for great music to drink coffee to — or possibly a coffee substitute. Either way, things are looking up in downtown NYC.
Pyramid
I’ve been sitting on this one for a while now. Note I say “sitting on,” not “sleeping on,” which is an important distinction because it means I’m more of a jerk than a slacker. Unlike many of the emails we receive in the ol’ suggestionbox(at)3hive.com, I actually downloaded these songs mere moments after Ryan recommended the Charlotte, NC-based octet. So here I’ve been, soaking in their smoldering, headphone-friendly country goodness lo these past couple months without even telling my closest friends about it. Please accept my apologies and let me make it up to you by providing you with a direct link to purchase their fine debut, The First American, as those Amazon and Insound links below probably won’t help much until they land a label or distribution deal.
Self
Back it up about 10 years when Sam, Jon and I were all being paid for what we do now for free, a young man by the name of Matt Mahaffey was also, theoretically, getting paid for what he now does for free. His collage of organic and digital instrumentation, pop and hip-hop sensibilities, and his playful use of harmonic and discordant elements won us over immediately. Self was an essential artist in our soundtrack of those days at Acme. With Jon’s usual sarcasm, he remembers this time as “misty watercolor memories.” It took a loyal 3hive reader (thanks Josh!) to bring us full circle, back to Self. While selfies.com offers a veritable smorgasbord of free tunes, here’s a brief sampler of his classic and newest works. “KiDdies” was a literal hit on my nightly radio show in Salt Lake City and a great Halloween track, “So Low” and “Cannon” the singles from Self’s first album. The rest are from his most current album, this year’s Porno, Mint & Grime.
MC Frontalot
Emmett’s been on my back to post MC Frontalot, the self-proclaimed “world’s 579th greatest rapper.” I’ve been putting off Frontalot for two reasons: 1) he’s got A LOT of songs to choose from, all available for free download, and 2) I can’t tell if he’s for real, or if this is all just a way for some Cal Tech computer science Ph.D. candidate to let off some steam. Regarding the latter, the obvious next question is, “Does it even matter if he’s legit?” At least I’ve come to a decisive “Hell no” answer to that one. So here’s the nerdcore hip hop, ten songs worth. When you’re done laughing at the silliness you get here, go ahead and download the other 52 songs available at www.frontalot.com. Or, you could buy his record, I suppose.