So one of the band members of Earth Program, I won’t identify her specifically, has been pestering me for this post for some time. I think she didn’t really realize that I had quietly retired from 3hive as a way to maintain sanity. Seriously, how can anyone actually listen to even a fraction of the music that’s out there and keeps on coming every day? It was her quasi-anonymous e-mail that did it; “Dear Editor, ” it began. Come on… As a disclosure, I knew this band member before there was an Earth Program, back when she was the complicated girl in the back of my high school Creative Writing class. She was as awesome then as her band is now, and I’m glad I unretired just to share some tunes I think a lot of you are going to like. I mean, just listen to “Eat Your MakeUp,” ok? Earth Program is pop enough to be bearable and strange enough to keep things interesting. Sounds like a fine time to be 20ish in Chicago. Oh, and hi Jen.
Let’s Say We Did
Sebastian Fors, Sweden’s answer to Jeff Tweedy, used to roll with a revolving cast of characters called The Ones That Got Away. He now leads a group called Let’s Say We Did. Fors’ groggy vocals and lovelorn lyrics cast a nice shadow against the band’s bright Americana pop. Frayed edges in the production make it feel old and familiar, like flannel on a cold day. Cozy up.
Buy the EP here.
The Royal Chains
Sorry for the hiatus. Life got a bit hectic the last couple weeks, and since I’m pretty much navigating this ship solo (alas!) it doesn’t take much for it to veer off course. Queue The Royal Chains. I pulled this out of the latest stack of mail at random and the lack of effort and forethought paid off. They’re just a couple boys from Nashville via Brooklyn, Dan on guitar and Adam on drums and vocals, who describe their musical MO in the third person this way, “They write pop songs that are probably more rock. They write rock songs that are probably more pop.” I struggled to chose a song to post. The whole five song EP is pop rock solid. I decided on “Lucy Takes the Dare” (which leans toward the pop end of their spectrum), because I think it’s the hit. Which is funny because it’s not structured like a hit at all. The song builds slowly, taunts you with a couple pre-choruses, a meandering bridge, then finally, two minutes in, the title is sung three times, and the song keeps building right into the outro and it’s over and you have to hit repeat. There’s some nice texture looping in the background which reminds me of Howard Hello and if you mix in a touch of Superchunk, minus a bit of tempo, you get pretty close to how great The Royal Chains is/are (depending on your plural band moniker usage preference).
Various: Sleepingfish 8
Alisa and I read differently. She reads for plot. I for sentences. Sleepingfish publishes writers whose first concern is the sound of their sentences. Music without notes. Just tone and rhythm. Rhythm and mood. Consider this sentence from this issue:
She is unaware of the little bits of fabric he would sew into her palms: in private she squelches her poise and it is awful to hear silence exist in such a perfect American accent. [Julie Doxsee excerpt]
Sleepingfish not-so-regularly publishes such work from some my favorite writers: Peter Markus, Dawn Raffel, Diane Williams, and Terese Svoboda. Of note: the latest issue of Sleepingfish features an online supplement, a setlist of contributors past and present. We’ll feature a few here, but more tracks, along with ordering info for the issue, can be found at
Sleepingfish.
The Plimsouls
I don’t remember where I’d been camping. I was thirteen years old, a boy scout. One of my best friends at the time, Greg Angel, was having a birthday party and because of a scout trip I wouldn’t be there. There was a Plimsouls show at Perkins Palace in Pasadena, California. The party bus captained by Greg’s mother would be leaving before I returned. A blowout between me and my parents probably erupted at some point, but my father, ever the peacekeeper, ever the politician, negotiated an early pick-up from the campground and offered to drive me out to the show. I don’t remember many of the details, but I do recall: the pure stoke I felt towards my father as he drove our orange, ’73 Ford Pinto up some L.A. freeway, headlights illuminating the road ahead of us, the seemingly cavernous venue, the sweet stink of marijuana smoke clouding the room, the raw energy of live drums, guitar, and the bass setting the pace of my heart, Peter Case in the flesh, cocked pigeon-toed at the mic belting out the songs I’d sung to myself hundreds of times before, the epiphany of rock and roll. And now these resurrected feelings of youth, stirred to life by this live album from that same tour, ordain my middle-age. Now what? Do it all again, this time with my own kids in tow.
David Bazan
I don’t listen to David Bazan as much as I should. The reason why is pathetic. And definitely one a musician never wants to hear—that you love one album, or maybe just one song, so much that anything else from that artist pales in comparison, according to that person’s narrow, small-minded, myopic point of view. Guilty. My two favorite song’s from Bazan come from his Pedro the Lion album It’s Hard to Find a Friend: “Big Trucks” and “When They Really Get to Know You They Will Run.” I’m enamored by the way those songs sound like snippets from short stories, more narratives than lyrics. And their tempos, their simplicity, and Bazan’s young, quiet earnestness on that first record. I realize this is no excuse and I need to dig deeper into his catalog—especially if I plan on attending one of his upcoming West Coast living room shows (Tickets go on sale today. Only 30 are available for each show). I don’t want to be that chump in the corner only singing along to or requesting older material. I hate those people.
The Cinematics
Imagine the Smiths on Ritalin. The Cinematics play peppy angst-filled post-punk pop—especially on “New Mexico.” They slow it down and gloom it out on “Love & Terror,” building the track around the guitar riff of “Personal Jesus.” The Glasgow band seem happy to reside sonically in that peculiar time period between the ’80s and ’90s. This fits my theory that many sounds of popular music tend to rotate on a twenty year cycle. It matters less when the music emerges; the quality of sound and song reign supreme and regardless of their influences, The Cinematics seem to be settling into their own space on this sophomore release.
The Depreciation Guild
Favorite new song alert! As soon as I heard their new single, “Dream About Me,” I rushed to alert my friend Chet who’s a big fan of Ocean Blue and Prefab Sprout and while he hasn’t reported back yet, I expect to hear that The Depreciation Guild is right up his alley. The band’s sound transports me back to the early nineties, the years Chet and I were in radio together. The band takes the lush, dreamy pop sounds of early 4ad bands and distresses them a bit with fuzzy electronics and gentle reverb. Lots of other folks are taking note as well—they’ve sold out of their new single and Kanine records just reissued their 2007 album. Speaking of friends who’d like this band, I’m surprised our own Clay Calloway didn’t beat me to the punch on this one, especially considering two-thirds of the band also play in The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, one of Clay’s recent crushes he’s gushed about on this site. The moonlighters will be extra busy as both bands head over to play the UK later this month. The band has some Midwest and East Coast dates before then, so if you like what you hear do some homework and catch them live, geography permitting.
The Sky Drops
Sean and I were just trading jabs this week on Facebook regarding MBV comparisons on these pages. So it’s ironic that I’m gonna keep it going.
You gotta love it when a band fulfills its promises. How many times have you heard, “The new album will be out by the end of the year,” only to have it come out two years later or (in the case of MBV, a frequent reference when talking about the Sky Drops) not at all. The Sky Drops promised that despite a medical problem, their full album would be out in 2009, and they did it. Out now, the Sky Drops debut full length Bourgeois Beat, self-released on Fridabear Records, has them further fleshing out their wall of guitars with some mighty catchy hooks, moving from shoegazer fuzz-pop to fuzz-rock. I long ago gave up hope of another MBV album; with Bourgrois Beat filling that space, who needs it now?
From October 13, 2008:
Why didn’t someone tell me? Seriously, I feel like an idiot. My Bloody Valentine played somewhere where I actually live, and I MISSED it! Sure, I saw they were going to play some dates, but did I pay close attention? No. This review almost had me breaking my hand punching my desk. Next time, will someone please email me?
So in my misery, I turned to the Sky Drops for some comfort. These two songs are from last year and show them moving away from their MBV-infuenced shoegaze into their own territory, but the wall of guitar is still the focus. Their debut album, expected earlier this year, has been delayed due to Rob being unable to play the guitar, but they promise us it’ll be out in 2009.
From original post May 24, 2006:
Sean has baited me in the past making this comparison. I swore I would never do it, cause seriously, how can anyone ever approach the genius of Kevin Shields? Then I met the Sky Drops, Rob Montejo and Monika Bullette of Wilmington, Delaware. So when I make a My Bloody Valentine comparison here, I mean it. “Now Would Be” could be the last song on MBV’s Isn’t Anything, and “Green to Red” could have appeared on MBV’s Loveless right in between “When You Sleep” and “I Only Said.” Now, kind reader, a word. Please don’t assume I’m accusing the Sky Drops of plagiarism; au contraire, I’m paying them one of the highest compliments I can. And just think, they make all this racket with a guitar and drums!
Jimmy Ohio
Who says you can’t judge a book by its cover? Basic Black is not only the title of Jimmy Ohio’s first EP, but a fitting description of the raw, bluesy, and timeless rock ‘n’ roll found therein. Last year, the Brooklynite flew back to his one-time home of Detroit and holed up in a former Baptist church for four days with some old pals, Dan Kroha (The Gories, Demolition Doll Rods), Trevor Naud (Zoos of Berlin, PAS/CAL), and Tony Maimone (Pere Ubu). The four songs that emerged each paint heartbreak with a slightly different brush, and offer tastes of what might have come of a longer recording session. From the bristling energy of “Hello and Goodbye” to the delicate reflection of “Quiet Sound” — each track leaves you wanting more. So…when’s the long-player, Jimmy?