Kate Tucker & The Sons of Sweden
By the time I’ve published a post I’ve probably listened to the song(s) I’m reviewing around twenty times. But it only takes about twenty seconds to decide whether or not I like the song enough to post it. This was not the case with the present artist. As soon as Kate Tucker parted her lips to release her rich, dulcet voice I was gathering rope and beeswax to avoid following her to my inevitable destruction (forgive my allusion to the Odyssey; I’m deep into the Rouse translation…). You’d hear no complaints from me if this was the last voice I ever heard. Tucker herself journeyed from her home in Ohio across the country to Seattle and settled in with a couple Swedes and a young man obsessed with the Cocteau Twins. Tucker’s folk-influenced picking patterns (I stole that one straight outta the bio) sumptuously melt with her band’s ethereal programming and reverberating guitars. The result of their meeting should be ringing brightly in your ears now. If not, get your click on! With the WGA strike entering its second week, the music folks over at Grey’s Anatomy will have extra time to discover this siren’s songs.
The Mary Timony Band
You know, Mary Timony. Helium. Mary is still going strong, still telling us about the world, still giving us little glimpes into her soul, into her life, combining her raw talent these days with the experience that comes from years of making the music that she makes. The Mary Timony Band says it all. She is the band.
The Teenagers
A downright spunky meditation on a young man’s obsession with Scarlett Johansson, thinly veiled in the title as “Starlett Johansson.” Start/stop guitar bursts interspersed with spoken word factoids about Ms. Johansson make up the verses (the line I’ll find myself dropping as a non-sequiter [accent and delivery included] into future conversations: “I’m scared by spiders too”). The chorus explodes into a synth-pop romp, with Weezer-like hooks. This track is filled with the youthful, giddiness I expect even my old man experiences when he sees his starlett crush on-screen, or on the streets of Barcelona, arm-in-arm with Woody Allen, as he did on a recent overseas trip. Speaking of tripping overseas, this Parisian trio is scheduled to play the U.S. early next year.
Devin Davis
This is DIY at its best. Devin Davis did pretty much everything, from trombone to handclaps, on his 2004 release Lonely People of the World, Unite!. His old school indie-rock-soul sounds like it was backed by a crowd, but hey, that’s the point; lonely people usually have lots to say. Let’s hope a new release is on its way.
Josh Ritter
What I said about Josh Ritter a year and a half ago pretty much stands true today, except that now there’s another great release to add to his repertoire, including the fantastic, Dylan-esque “To the Dogs or Whoever” offered here. They don’t make as many songwriters these days who can encapsulate the sweeping American experience and still sound as personal as your oldest and dearest friend, so set yourself to downloading (especially “Dogs,” “Kathleen,” and “Harrisburg”) and have a great weekend.
Jawbox
You’ll have to forgive us if we geek out a bit on Dischord bands. It’s more than slightly embarrassing that we’ve been running on at the mouth for over three-and-a-half years without featuring a Dischord artist (hats off to Clay for pointing this out and diggin’ up the goods). For this bunch of music geeks the seminal, super-duper DIY label has had a huge influence on the projects we’ve worked on together over the years (AM 960 The S.U.N., Sonic Garden CD Exchange, and Grid Magazine—and no you haven’t heard of any of these unless you were in college with us a good decade ago in a strange little corner of the country). I will forever associate Jawbox with our takeover of an AM signal, housed in a little shack in the middle of a cow pasture, tucked under the shadows of the Rocky Mountains. These tracks were in heavy rotation for the nine months or so we were on cloud nine, amazed we’d finagled our way into running a radio station. While the members of Jawbox have moved on to other projects and stages of life, Dischord continues its inspiring aesthetic.
Brad Laner
Add father, restorer of modernist architecture, and solo artisit to Brad Laner’s lengthy resume. Laner’s always been somewhat of a DIY kinda guy as he’s practically steered such fine musical vessels as Medicine, Electric Company and Amnesia single-handedly. Maybe it’s because he’s a father now, or maybe it’s because he’s got a place, a self-restored a 1964 mid-century modern Eichler home, to proudly call his own that Brad Laner has finally shed his many masks and is releasing his first proper solo record, Neighbor Singing. At least his son and home have both inspired and restrained him, allowing him small windows of recording time which helped him keep an objective view on the album. These two tracks hint at a sunny, summertime pop record, a loopy-Beach Boys kind of sound. A sound, Laner says, that has emerged not from his record collection, but from his own biological self: “I wanted to shamelessly utilize all of the different skills that I’ve built up over a lifetime of musical experiences.” No shame necessary. Dig this.
The Evens
To quote my friend Rick, “The best band ever.”Ian MacKaye and Amy Farina made this wonderful lo-fi pop (in punk rock style, of course), and frankly, we at 3hive have never featured a Dischord band until now. It was time to right this wrong.
Shelter Two [MP3, 3.6MB, 160kbps]Pushed Up Against the Wall [MP3, 3.3MB, 128kbps]
Spitzer
Spitzer consists of a couple young men raised in the same house in Lyon, France. These brothers have one goal: Make you dance. Currently, the duo is working on a four song EP called Roller Coaster and if the four tracks on their myspace page are any indication of what we’re in for, we’re in for some big, bright and bold dancefloor action. I love the early Speak & Spell-like synth tones used on “Disco Biscuits.” Of course they’ve been pumped up ala Marion Jones for maximum rump-shakin’ enjoyment. The track opens with one synth riff getting overshadowed by another, high up in the mix, trampling over the first until that second riff distorts itself into oblivion as the track finally settles into its groove, a slamming epiphany imminent. Spitzer proves France still has fertile fields to harvest for yet another generation of club kids.