Tim O. and I went to see Ted Leo/Pharmacists last night, which was loud enough to blow out the new amp Ted bought earlier in the day, and so as ear therapy on the way home we listened to God Save The Clientele, due out next Tuesday. It’s so awesomely mellow, psychedelic and spacy that I’ve been using it at home in a similar manner, like when my 4-year old daughter repeatedly “sings” a joked-up version of the alphabet (X, T, G, R, B, V, J, J, J, etc.) at the top of her lungs. While the single “Bookshop Casanova” is fine, I’d drop a dollar on the whispers of “The Queen of Seville” or the Lawrence Welk-inspired “From Brighton Beach to Santa Monica” for a better feel for the new album, or for straightforward, drug-free headache relief.
Bookshop Casanova [MP3, 5.2MB, 192kbps]
Original post: 11/17/05
Hey, Clay! What’s up? Hey, how come you never posted The Clientele? This band seems right up your alley — hazy, dreamy British guitar pop about London and all that. I mean, just look at this song title: “St. Paul’s Beneath a Sinking Sky.” Isn’t that your thing? I guess if you didn’t post because The Clientele have only one free & legal MP3 available, and that song clocks in at less than two minutes long, well, that’s understandable. But they do have a new album out, and that’s as good a reason as any to post ’em. BTW, if you happen to be in Detroit this Sunday, let’s take Sam out for his birthday and catch The Clientele at the Magic Stick. Pas/Cal, a band you posted way back when, is opening. Greetings to the whole family! Love, Joe
Last week’s cover of the 
More goodness from Morr Records. The Go Find, which began as a solo project of Dieter Sermeus, has developed into more of a full band affair. To get a sense of where The Go Find searches for inspiration, consider the artists they covered for a recent 7″: Hall & Oates backed with Pavement. A winning combination in my book. “Dictionary” blends both sounds well—understated, indie vocals over soft, 80s-style, electro-disco instrumentation (complete with echoing handclaps and Roxy Music-esque guitar riffs).
Alex Delivery is comprised of members from former Eastern Bloc nations and Korea, so the harsh realities of totalitarian communism aren’t just a trendy design concept to them (even if they all met in art school), it’s a way of life. You can tell on Komad, which starts like the cast of Stomp lost one of their own and decided to throw him a New Orleans-style funeral march. Then, it keeps going… It’s borderline infuriating if you’re not in the right mindset for 10 minutes of dissonance, but if you allow yourself to get into Alex Delivery’s dystopian groove, you might just stomp along with them.
Jake from SLC tossed us a bunch of suggestions about a month ago, and Dustin and the Furniture on Oh! Map Records seemed like an interesting choice. According to the label website, this Georgian “sings songs about trees, birds, nothing, everything, and not knowing anything.” And this he does so delicately as to be concerned that Dustin might break if these songs are downloaded too many times. Maybe he just needs someone to buy him lunch. Anyone got some change to throw into the open guitar case?
Really, it’s not that I’m lazy. It’s that Phil can talk about Bill Coleman much more effectively than I can, so let’s let him: “Essentially, Bill Coleman is a finger-picking-guitar-style singer-songwriter from Cork, Ireland. He released his debut album I’ll Tear My Own Walls Down in February, and has some free downloads on his website. I go to his live show every chance I get. The guy knows how to put on a show, especially when he has his full band (at times, reviewers try to compare his live shows to The Flaming Lips, for the sheer zanyness, and positive, uplifting vibes to come from the music and the persona of Bill himself. Some songs may dredge you through the darkest areas of the mind at times, but somehow, Bill always manages to find some light at the end. His quiet/sad songs are simply sublime and majestic. His upbeat songs leave you with a smile on your face, and the feeling everything will be alright.” See?
1996. Methodrone. The first LP from the Brian Jonestown Massacre was the inspiration for Mike G and I to finally start a band after months of talking about it. You see, I had gotten in his car with some friends not really knowing Mike, and lo and behold, playing in his car stereo was 
When CoCo B’s dropped their new tracks into our mailbox I experienced a spell of flashbacks: me and Matt from The Bronx hauling out to Anaheim every Sunday night, Alberto’s burritos in hand, along with crates full of CDs from Orange County bands. This was back in 2002, before Indie 103.1 was around, and a small staff of music-heads were running a great alternative station with a stupid name: Cool 94.3. Matt and I produced and hosted a (four hour!) local show called Go Loco and CoCo B’s track “Big Okie Dokie” was practically our theme song. I haven’t heard anything from them until now.
Joe is reigning king of the mix tape. While most of us have grown lazy (just look at our sporadic podcast output), Joe still makes mixes — most often on CD-R these days — with little more impetus than capturing a theme or mood: spring songs, road songs, grading papers songs, cooking songs, songs featuring a particular girl’s name… The latter prove to be the most difficult (unless your name happens to be Baby), which is why Utah Carol’s latest album, Rodeo Queen, reminded me of Joe. Among the 13 rich country pop songs we have “Kimberly Smiles,” “I’m Sorry Maria,” “Sam’s Ranch,” and, featured here, “Ruby” and “Come Back Baby” (see, they even have Baby covered). Utah Carol, named after a traditional song about a cowboy who dies trying to save his friend from a stampede, are in fact the Chicago-based JinJa Davis and Grant Birkenbeuel. They take country and pop influences with equal weight, producing precious harmonies, delicate instrumentation, loping rhythms, and memorable lyrics. Hit record, Joe.