It might take a few spins — there must be something spinning inside the computer, right? —for this debut track from The Cotton Jones Basket Ride to really work for you. Greg and I were hanging around, giving it a listen, and our first thought was to turn down the volume, for the sake of discretion. But there’s something about former Page France frontman Michael Nau’s voice that begs to be heard. In this case, it’s the refreshingly bluesy, breezy falsetto of “Had Not A Body.” He’s singing about demons in his head and fire in his throat, but you know, the song is so cool and laid back, it’s really nothing to worry about. Time will tell if the rest of his new debut, Paranoid Cocoon, will be equally tranquil; it’s due in early 2008. Until then and according to the promo people, “an individually handmade, hand-stamped, limited EP Booklet of five songs is available for purchase at all Cotton Jones shows, and via the Quite Scientific website. The booklets are hand made, hand stamped, and include a CD of four songs set to appear on the upcoming record, and one exclusive to the release.” Right on.
Elk City
So there is this perfect meal that I like to make in the fall (due credit must be given to Marcella Hazan, the grande dame of Italian home cooking). I just take some plum tomatoes (canned are best, but the good kind, not the five for a dollar kind) and I put them in a pot. Then I take an onion, cut it in half and put it in the pot. Then I take five tablespoons of butter and, ahem, put it in the pot. I then cook the contents of the pot for 45 minutes, spoon it over piping hot pasta and sit in my pajamas watching wretched TV. It tastes just as good as any complicated and fussy meal I’ve ever made. But this is not a cooking blog, its about the music, so what the hell is my point? My point is that Elk City’simple and lovely “Los Cruzados” is the long missing final ingredient to this simple, yet high octane, tomato sauce. My point is that songs don’t have to redefine the rules to be good, and sometimes taking a few simple, common, high quaity ingredients and mixing them into the pot can yield the most comforting, pleasure inducing things. And then of course you add some butter. If you were wondering, singer Renee LoBue’s melty, raspy voice is totally the butter.
Miss Fairchild
The promo materials promise that Miss Fairchild aren’t a bunch of “suburban white kids play-acting at being an ’80s funk band.” Well, unless they were born in Detroit fifty years ago they are exactly a bunch of suburban white kids posing as an ’80s funk band, and guess what??? THAT’S OK. All I care about is that you actually pull it off without a whiff of irony. Miss Fairchild does just that. They are 100% committed to a rump-shakin’ dancefloor party, no wink-wink-nudge-nudge attached. Miss Fairchild bring the smooth, R&B-styled party-pop, the kind that’ll have all your friends waving their hands in the air like they just don’t care, especially during the “cha-cha” breakdown in “Number One”…”Yeah Rosie, Yeah Rosie, Yeah Vije, Yeah Vije, Yeah Patty, Yeah Patty, Yeah SylviiiiiiAAAA!!”
Now all they need to do is hop on the road with Hunter Revenge and Gen-Y’s Prince will have his Morris Day counterpart. Deluxe.
Wojtek Godzisz
I’m really not a huge fan of overly theatrical pop. I don’t like show tunes at all, and musicals make me cringe. So, I have trouble explaining my fascination with the likes of Wojtek Godzisz (that’s voy-tek go-jeesh). It’s not just because the Brit is Polish — czesc, dude! Instead, I think it’s the drive in these tunes that captures my attention. Even though “December Will Be Magic Again” has all the makings of stage drama, it’s going somewhere, and that beat is moving me around the house when really I’d rather nap. And covering The Smiths is just fun.
Club 8
I feel a special numerical affinity for Club 8. The number eight holds a particular significance with me, a significance that I don’t believe I’ve shared outright with our readership, which is surprising, even to me, because I’m quite obnoxious with it in person. Put it this way, I probably would’ve been much better at math if we worked off a base eight system. OK, I’ll put it another way: I wouldn’t get very far hitchhiking. Here, you’d better just have a look (Taken, probably ten years ago, by Mr. Lifto backstage at a Jim Rose Circus Sideshow. No it hasn’t been Photoshopped.). Now that we’ve established I’m a member of Club 8, onto the music at hand (pun not intended, seriously)…
Club 8 is the Swedish boy-girl duo of Johan AngergÃ¥rd and Karolina Komstedt, homemaking music since 1995. Incessantly smooth and gorgeous, both the singing and playing, Club 8 has toyed with different takes on their cozy pop sound: ’60s folk, trip-hop, and bossa nova. It’s been five years since the last Club 8 album due to the fact that both Johan AngergÃ¥rd and Komstedt also play in Acid House Kings, not to mention AngergÃ¥rd’s work with The Legends. Their new album, The Boy Who Couldn’t Stop Dreaming, promises to balance sunshine (“Heaven”) and melancholia (“Jesus, Walk With Me”—a quiet rebuttal to Sam Harris et al). In a word, stunning.
Ferraby Lionheart
Lately, everything has just seemed charming. And my last few posts have reflected that. (Uh, I hope?) Ferraby Lionheart completes my “charmed cycle” and, with Clare and the Reasons and Jens Lekman, has been fillling my little apartment with happy sounds. He doesn’t sound like Ryan Adams to me at all, but somehow when Ferraby Lionheart is playing, my brain is somehow right back in Chicago circa 2000 listening to Whiskeytown and driving down Lakeshore Drive watching the leaves change. Or I am in Minnesota listening to the Strokes first album for the first time. In short, this is music to mark time to. Mr. Lionheart is a mishmash–there are strings occasionally, some Otis Redding style whistling, tics sometimes, a little harmonica and a small, appropriate amount of irony mixed up in this man’s music. But mostly its just pretty and solid, and tis the season for pretty, transporting songs.
Black Kites
Black Kites is an LA band that’s got a little bit of everything — male and female vocals, droning guitar, heavy drums, mellow synth — and it’s all dreamy & dramatic. I like the retro vibe they’ve got, especially in “Sadie.” Kind of old school, sort of new wave, it’s like I’m buying my first pair of Dr. Martens all over again. Apparently their cover of the Sisters of Mercy’s “Lucretia My Reflection” was once available on the Filthy Little Angels website, and it’s a drag I couldn’t find it. That would have likely been a rare and special treat.
PS Thanks to everyone who pointed out to my numb skull that “Lucretia” is still available for free and legal download. I’ve added it to the rest of the tracks offered by Black Kites.
Ravens and Chimes
Last week while on a family bike ride, my ears suddenly heard the sound of drums pounding in a garage. As we got got closer, I was able identify this beat as a definite 80’s era hardcore punk beat, then gradually to hear distorted vocals and then the way too low guitar. Finally getting within range I saw a bunch of high school boys playing something I didn’t expect; I’m pretty sure they were covering Black Flag. Not like how Korn or Fall Out Boy would play Black Flag, but Black Flag like a bunch of kids in a garage would play Black Flag. I was impressed.
So how does that tie into this post about NYC’s Ravens and Chimes, a decidedly non-punk band of NYU students? Like our little punk friends in the garage, what they are playing is unexpected. In the case of Ravens and Chimes and their debut album Reichenbach Falls out October 9, their indie pop folk rock, like a younger, peppier Bishop Allen influenced by Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen (their cover of his “So Long, Marianne” is below), displays a maturity that is a bit of a surprise. Perhaps their devotion to their influences has led them to play more from the heart. And perhaps as a thirtysomething I’m not giving the kids, be they liberal arts college students or high school boys in a garage, enough credit these days.
Office
Office is to indie pop what Dilbert is to the comic pages. Early live shows featured the band decked out in office attire, suits, ties, blouses and sensible shoes. Each musician enjoyed an onstage secretary, ready at their beck and call. Lucky for the listener, they don’t sing about the drudgery of the 9 to 5 life (with the exception of “Company Calls” about a woman who insists on doing business on her cell phone 24/7 and the man who is in love with her), although they’re still prone to occasionally dress up on stage as if they just punched out. I won’t bother further trying to decipher what these songs are about when singer and guitarist Scott Masson explains them himself. Suffice it to say Masson does an amazing job at recreating a dream in “The Ritz” and his background notes behind “Oh My” are as hilarious as the video. The best part about Office is, of course, their music. Any band who aspires, and succeeds!, to blend the sounds of Neil Diamond and Daft Punk, The Beach Boys and Wire is plenty capable of knocking you out of your own 9 to 5 funk.
Office is now on tour with Earlimart.
Patrick Watson
Sean posted Psapp a few times, and they had a song on Grey’s Anatomy, and this post been one of 3hive’s most popular ever. Patrick Watson had a song on Grey’s Anatomy, so hey, give the people what they want, right? He also just won or was nominated for some Canadian music awards — Polaris Prizes, Juno Awards, that sort of thing. I’m thinking Waston and the rest of this Montreal quintet could call themselves M. Rufus Buckley and you’d all get the drift. These tracks are from the band’s 2006 album Close to Paradise, which had a US release the day before yesterday.