Midas himself must have touched the ears of the folks over at Pehr. They’ve just released the first album from 33-year-old Parisienne, Christelle Delaney, here in the States and I find myself going back for more and more (kind of like I did last week with the cream puffs at Papa Beard’s). Delaney is indeed comfort food to the ears, whether you’re looking for a little ray of sunshine, “A Quoi Bon” (dig the dusty beat), or a soundtrack for heart break, “La Nuit On A Toujours Tout.” Either way, prepare for deliciousness.
Brendan Benson
If Brendan Benson’s indie cred translated into cash money, he could probably find what he’s looking for, instead of still looking for it. All the hip Detroit bands link to his website; he runs a ghetto recording studio and hangs out with Jack White; he got screwed by Virgin Records in a ’90s album deal but is back with V2 anyway — what more could you ask for? Benson’s got a little twang, some ’60s sensibilities, and a whole lot of talent. If he could only get Jack to punch him out in front of some photographers…
My Enemy
The band claims to know all your secrets. Their label says My Enemy will kill you with poison. A wolf in sheep’s clothing? Harmless? Find out for yourself. Recommended if you’re a fan of imagining Múm up all night smoking crack…well, okay, maybe Múm after a couple Diet Cokes.
Mike Doughty
In my hotel of fond memories, Mike Doughty will always have a guaranteed late arrival, smoking-permitted Junior Executive Suite, complete with Heavenly Bed™ and a pillow mint. When I was a young player trying make it in the journalism game, Doughty was a consistently magical interview and overall nice guy. Also, unbeknownst to him, Doughty sparked the first major argument my wife and I ever had: About three hours into a five-hour road trip I popped in Irresistible Bliss. After a few songs, my then fiancee says, “Do we have to listen to this again?” To which I respond, “Listen, if I were a band, I’d be Soul Coughing. So get used to this.” In the stuff of sitcoms, our pal Ned had to sit through the next two hours in the backseat, wishing he’d found a different ride. I’m happy to report that our marriage weathered that debate and that Doughty is back, badder and deffer than before. My man’s talent still lies in his intrinsically rhythmic yarns, wherein he turns observational minutae into hypnotic commands through nasal, raspy repetition. But his writing has matured and the subway busker sound of his first solo effort has been replaced by some genuine instrumental weight, making Haughty Melodic sound bigger and warmer.
P.S. All you other Mike Doughtys are just imitating…
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
At some point I had to acknowledge the wonders of this band despite or due to the fact that every single one of my favorite music-related blogs has jocked Clap Your Hands Say Yeah — which I won’t acronym-ize because it ends up reminding me of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young when, in fact, they remind me of all that’s good about the Talking Heads, early Radiohead (yeah, Heather, I said Radiohead), and hazy, distorted memories of childhood.
Tom Vek
In one of our 2004 Year-End Lists we each named the artists we wished would make MP3s available so we could rave about them on 3hive. Well, dreams do come true, people, as I can finally cross one Tom Vek off that list — just in time for his debut album to drop Stateside. The unassuming Londoner records deliciously tense, warm, and infectious songs from his parents’ garage. Feel free to listen in your garage, or wherever else you see fit.
Mazarin
I’m camping. Download and drop a DIY review in the comments. The most pithy review wins Mazarin’s full-length and a couple other treats from the 3hive storage shed.
Space Mtn
What’s in the Los Angeles air (apart from way too much carbon monoxide) that makes even the struggling, DIY bands look and sound like they’re just one rigged TRL away from mass market stardom? Space Mtn, with the hot librarian looks and open diary lyrics of lead singer Dina Waxman combined with multi-instrumentalist Chris Jacks’ deft ear for melody and melancholy, are a case in point. The duo crafts ridiculously tender, ridiculously listenable pop music which, with or without a well-financed marketing push, will find daylight sooner or later. Watch your back, Hilary Duff…for real.
Acid House Kings
How about a blissful pop treat this last Sunday of summer? I know, it’s not technically, but come on, once September rolls around, summer’s over. Anyway, Acid House Kings (featuring members of Club 8 and The Legends) create amazingly pure pop songs and invite us all along for the fun: lyrics and instrumental MP3s are available online and you can add your own vocals to the mix and perhaps be included on a forthcoming EP. Swedish music hasn’t been this fun since ABBA!
Koufax
A frantic swell of kick drum and tinkled ivories launches Koufax’s new single, letting you know that some of the better (if lesser known) ambassadors of Generation Whatevs are back with 20% more sass, strut, and pout. You know, I should be tired of singing along to bands that are younger, better looking, and snappier dressers than me. If only they’d stop writing such flippin’ infectious songs…