Remember a few weeks ago when I gave you some music that my pal Lisa had recommended? Well, she’s done some more spot-on MP3 hunting, and rather than give my own take on it, let’s hear directly from the woman herself. Take it away, Lisa…
Everyone loves love. We really do. We love us some love. And because there simply aren’t enough misanthropic recluses out there who can’t find other humans to care for their sorry selves, there is a truckload of songs made to feel how we feel. And that’s great. Really. It’s great. That said, it was breath-of-fresh-air time when I finally to listened to Hello Saferide – a guitar-playing Swede who’s a little nutty, a little neurotic, totally self-conscious and, OMG, she’s not even a little bit afraid to be such a girl.
Hello Saferide wishes her ex-lover the very worst on Valentine’s Day, she hopes you keep your socks on in bed because, well, she’s still scared of feet, and she knows that “somebody” ordered too many drinks last night and “somebody” reckoned that dancin’ on the bars was all right. Yep she’s a total mess, but she delivers her personal brand of nuttiness with such quirk, flare and snark that I’m right there with her. It’s nice to hear someone feeling how SHE feels, not how she thinks the rest of us will. And somehow, underneath all of that idiosyncrasy and Hello Saferide-ness, it’s all totally relatable.
I’m ashamed to admit I would have passed this guy up if I had to gone on name alone. Not to be a jerk, but Aloe Blacc?? Are we really running out of stage names? What’s wrong with Nathanial Dawkins? But, after taking in his magnificient R&B gem “I’m Beautiful” for the first time, I got over my prejudice real quick. This guy’s voice is pure enough to invoke comparisons to Motown legends. His debut, Shine Through has just the right amount of polish (despite being recorded in a makeshift bedroom studio) and draws from a rich array of musical influences, old and new. If most Stones Throw releases reek of chronic (not that I’m complaining, mind you), this joint’s a breath of fresh air. Inhale.
So this is what old school ska/reggae sounds like in Montreal. Reminds me a bit of those early Bob Marley recordings when he had short hair and wore matching outfits with Rita and Peter Tosh. “Who feels it knows it…” Singing in both English and French, The One Night Band’s debut album, Way Back Home came out summer 2006. Hey Sam, how do you say “rude boy” in French?
Since 3hive’s own Sam lived in Tahiti for a short time and speaks French, I almost feel like I’m stealing a Sam band, a la 
I recently rekindled a new friendship after googling an old friend. Except this wasn’t a friend from high school or college, it was a friend from the old hi-fi: Mitch Easter. Mitch Easter gained recognition for his production skills in the early ’80s producing R.E.M.’s first single, “Radio Free Europe,” and their first two LPs with Don Dixon. And thinking back to my own history as a music fan I don’t remember which came first for me, R.E.M. or Mitch’s band Let’s Active. I do remember that Let’s Active played a key role in formulating my taste for pop music. Smart, snappy, and cheerful without being sappy Let’s Active helped forged the template for American indie pop while flying mostly below the radar. Constant line-up changes, usually coinciding with changes in Easter’s relationships, occurred throughout the band’s one EP and three album history. Mitch has kept busy over the years as producer, working with everyone from The Connells, Dinosaur Jr., Superchunk, engineer, Pavement and Ride, and as guitarist extraordinaire (the two tracks from Shalini feature Mitch on guitar. Shalini currently plays bass in Mitch’s band). Coming across brand new music from Mitch Easter was an unexpected and thrilling surprise. He’s still got it. He’s like the King Midas of pop music. Everything he touches sounds like gold. Watch for his first release in eighteen years, Dynamico, in the next couple months on 
Really simple, almost childlike arrangements revolve around a single line or thought, some delicate piano, flute, etc., and the irresistible layered voices of Swedish songbird Helena Sundin. Makes for exquisite bedtime music. More MP3s where these came from…follow the links below.
If you were to strip the music from the songs of some awfully fine lyricists like Bob Dylan or Conner Oberst, you would likely be a little perplexed by what you’re hearing. Indeed, the few attempts there have been to give Dylan’s lyrics a more literal interpretation on stage and on the big screen have been so disastrous that it can make one lose respect for the incoherent old bastard. Fortunately, when such lyricists set their thoughts to a simple melody, what they say doesn’t have to be open for the simplest of interpretations. So even though you can easily find out why Sam Potrykus named his band Christians & Lions, or you can dissect the big-brained, big-hearted meanderings of songs like “Gimme Diction,” you can just as easily get lost not in what the words mean, but in the way they rise from the music like smoke from an agitated candle, creating a deductive harmony you can ponder or simply take on your own terms.
You know how, with some singers, you can pick up on speech or vocal patterns like accents or dialects really easily, while with others it’s almost impossible? Think about how British Billy Bragg sounds compared to, say, Paul McCartney. Or how a lot of the Swedish and Canadian bands we’ve posted actually sound like generic suburban America. Research has probably already been done on the impact of mass media on localized speech patterns ever since the popularization of radio; heck, this research could probably go back to the effects of court (ruling class) language on the merchant or even lower classes. Anyway, to get to the point, I like how Sonya Cotton sings the phrase “Guard your heart, darling,” in the song below with a similar title. It reminds me of Gillian Welch, and they both remind me of people singing the way they really speak. And sometimes that sounds nice.
Incubating across the Atlantic in their native London The Early Years released this, their first single, almost a year ago. “All Ones & Zeros” bounces along with a cheerful Joy Division-esque bass line, then the guitars hit. And hit. And hit. Droning, reverberating, backwards, forwards, feeding back and just making wonderful noise. You get an idea of what The Early Years’ first show was like, David Malkinson, on stage, alone, armed with a guitar, amp, and a plethora of effects pedals treating the small crowd to a twenty-minute long wall of sound. The vocals remind me of (brace yourselves for a really obscure reference here….) Butterfly Train, with Brett Nelson of Built To Spill on bass and vocals (In fact, the two bands have a similar vibe, but Butterfly Train had that certain Seattle-in-the-90s sound). The Early Years do a fantastic job of holding back the guitars just enough so they don’t lose control of the song. Stop by the band’s 
Slumberland Records changed my life. My first Slumberland purchase was the compilation Why Popstars Can’t Dance, which introduced me to Rocketship, whose 7″ “Hey, Hey Girl” I have completely worn out. My second Slumberland purchase is still the most prized piece of vinyl that I own: Henry’s Dress “1620.” (My failure to obtain the Henry’s Dress/Rocketship split single released on Slumberland in 1996 and re-released in 1999 still haunts me.) Slumberland also introduced an entire new world of bands to me, many of whom have been my “favorite” band at particular points in time. The aformentioned Rocketship and Henry’s Dress, plus