You know that expression “the cobbler’s children have no shoes”? That’s kinda been the story of my household on the digital music front…until yesterday, when the Bose Sound Dock and my wife’s silver iPod Mini showed up on our doorstep. I don’t know who was more excited, her or me, but let’s just say I already had a 125-song playlist ready to for the occasion. The pulsing strains of Clue to Kalo’s “Empty Save the Oxygen” were the first to emerge from the Sound Dock. Velia’s jaw dropped as she turned to me and said, “This sounds amazing.” I’m sure she was talking about the speakers but she was right on both counts.
Hooray for Insound’s Back to School Sale
Valley Lodge
You heard it here first: The next old-ass band to be hailed better-late-than-never as influential pop geniuses is Electric Light Orchestra — good ol’ ELO. I’ve heard them so many times in commercials and elsewhere lately that I’m convinced an unseen cosmic force is watching me and that the next time I order Chinese food it’ll be Jeff Lynne holding the bag and telling me to read my fortune cookie very carefully. Perhaps it’s even Lynne who subliminally led me to Valley Lodge (well, Lynne and the 3hive suggestion box), who, despite not sounding much like ELO at all, share the infectious habit of overdubbed high-tenor harmonies with the erstwhile prog-pop gods. There are also guitar hooks, a bass of a thousand rhythms, and mixed acoustic and electric melodies to keep you right in time. These are men who know how to craft a slightly emo, slightly retro pop song – and why shouldn’t they when their members’ list of former and current projects include Walt Mink, Sense Field, Satanicide, and Uptown Sinclair? “All of My Lovin” is one of those tracks that instantly sounds like you’ve been bouncing to it all of your life. And there are a dozen more little beauties on the album. Even the bios on their website are more fun than a barrel of domesticated monkeys. But, if Valley Lodge ever hope to be as mega-influential as ELO, they really need to work on their album covers. The birds are nice, guys, but the Technicolor ELO spaceship kicks ass. You know it’s true.
Eavesdropping via RSS
Brokeback
Brokeback — a.k.a. Douglas McCombs from Tortoise and Eleventh Day Dream, and a few friends — offers dreamy release in this lovely track. Let’s see, how many soft and cushy adjectives can be piled up on “Name’s Winston…”? Ethereal, soothing, idyllic, pensive. There’s four, at least.
La Laque
La Laque is not a French band. Sure, they sing in French, and the name is French, but no one in the band is French. Les filles parlent francais, mais les garcons ne parlent pas francais (need to run that by Sam, 3hive’s resident Francophone). Regardless of origin, NYC’s La Laque do have a more eccentric pop outlook, and they’re not afraid to let the violin drive the song, as shown in “Secret” from their split single with PAS/CAL.
Silversun Pickups
I was lucky enough to come across Silversun Pickups’ self-released EP last year and was immediately smitten with the band’s relaxed take on rock ‘n’ roll’s melancholic side, and how, as they put it “get loud, get quiet, get ugly, get pretty.” I’m also lucky Joe didn’t beat me to this band, like he did with fellow shipmates, Earlimart.
New Releases
Explosions in the Sky
We were watching Friday Night Lights and digging on the soundtrack. I was all, “This sounds like Mogwai” and Heather was all “Yeah” and I’m all “But Mogwai in a football movie?” and Heather’s all “Yeah.” Then we froze the credits and had to pick up our jaws from the floor. It wasn’t Mogwai. It was Explosions in the Sky, from Austin, Texas. These two tracks pack a big wallop. Kind of like Texas. Almost sweet at first, once the build hits you, it’s like senior year all over again.
Run DMC
Almost three years ago, Run DMC lost their “one-man band” Jam Master Jay to a fatal shooting in Queens. In his memory, I’m posting one of the remixes available on the recently reissued Run DMC catalog and sharing my first memory of Run DMC… It all began in Mr. Beasley’s music class, sixth grade. Realizing that we weren’t about to get our song books out and sing “Kookaburra” anymore, Mr. Beasley started taping “MV-60,” an early MTV-like music video show, and playing it in class. Among the other videos that left an impression — Yaz’s “Don’t Go,” Herbie Hancock’s “Rockit,” Art of Noise’s “Close to the Edit” — was Run DMC’s “Rock Box.” Mr. B also let students bring in their own records once a week, which is how I heard that first DMC record. It was so raw and real from end to end. By contrast, Sugarhill Gang was disco and Run DMC was rap. Thanks to Run DMC, my ears we ready for Big Daddy Kane, Eric B and Rakim, Public Enemy, among others. Come to think of it, thanks to Mr. Beasley as well: you were a good music teacher.