This is a fun mystery.
Having stumbled upon Hasch’m’Méneum through the backalleys of Last.fm, I have yet to find any more information on them. The best source of information comes in the way of the “electrojazz†tag given to them on said social music network. Normally we at Moodmat shun genre names, especially those of the hastily taped- and stapled-together variety. But this one ain’t bad. Hasch’m’Méneum’s “jazz†has a blues-y chug to it, and their “electro†bubbles a bit under the surface. So songs like “Heliotrope†wouldn’t be out of place in a Jazzanova set, and “Slide†evokes the “future sound of Hull,†a.k.a. Fila Brazillia. Who are these masked men? And why did they leave us two free albums to download?
Dan Sicko (special guest to 3hive.com)
C.O.C.O. play funky dance music, as does their lumberjack-soulman-boss Calvin Johnson, with an unselfconscious swagger that wears its anti-hipster lameness like a faded black t-shirt, not to mention on instruments that won’t be rendered useless when the power goes out at the house party (although their propensity for dub fadeouts might get lost with the lights out). Olivia Ness and Chris Sutton are a rhythm section in no need of melodies. It’s what all the Olympia kids are dancing to these days, and with any luck these rhythms will sweep the nation and set basement parties afire from coast to coast.
My most awesome musical dream right now is of Bella and 
I kind of just want to rip off the 
For the uninitiated: Múm makes music that would emanate from Willy Wonka’s jewelry box. I can close my eyes and actually see their music. It looks like a found object sculpture, with various instruments, kitchen utensils, and all manner of gadgets (analog and digital) piled high and held together with catgut and twine. A marvelous contraption set in motion and song by dropping a large marble into a bright chrome cylinder soldered to the top. As the marble travels down the sculpture, in, out, and back in again, it triggers notes, chords, voices, tiny starched flags adorned with glitter and stars and fastened to thin gold poles, flickering in and out of view—an explosion of sparkles signaling each change of timbre and tone, beat and bell, melody and mood. In a word, or two, utterly fanciful. Múm is the music of the butterflies that tickle your heart when you’re in love. If this is the first Múm song you’ve ever heard, please don’t let it be your last…
Biirdie’s brings the heartache like a slow-approaching thunderstorm. They lace their lush Americana sound with bits and blips of modernity a la fellow Californians Grandaddy. However, the double threat of Kala Savage’s angelic vocals and Jared Flamm’s world-worn pipes really put them in a class of their own. Plus they also made my baby girl sway at breakfast this morning while eating her Cheerios. So that’s a double thumb’s-up if ever I heard one.
This, people, is the post I have been waiting for. It’s no secret that I love me some Swedes and even less of a secret that I adore what shall heretofore be referred to as “The Gothenburg Sound.” (see: 
Cale Parks — multi-instrumentalist for the band Aloha — released a solo album — Illuminated Manuscripts — about a year ago. It’s shimmery and delicate and quivery and pretty much electronic, save for the snappy live percussion. These characteristics contrast so nicely with the rasp and grit of the acoustic folk rock that’s lately been pouring through my earbuds that I don’t care how old it is; I’m just happy to be in the haze.
I feel Clay’s pain. My ears have been ringing steady since February 2006. And I play guitar even worse, way worse, than Clay, but I do wear earplugs. Like a religion. Tinnitus still struck. It doesn’t bother me during the day, just when I lie down at night to sleep. The remedy? MP3 player of choice. Just be sure to keep the levels down so you don’t further ruin your hearing. I just found what I’ll be falling asleep to this evening: Red Collar. These Durham, NC rockers take me back a decade or so, sounding like a solid Dischord band if Dischord were down south in Alabama. Country Fried Hardcore? Springsteen fronting Fugazi? Sacrilege? Perhaps. I’ll definitely be breaking the first aural health commandment tonight: keep it below 11. This’ll drown out the ringing nicely.