The moment I mention StafrÊnn H·kon resides and records in Iceland, one or more of the following artists will come to mind: Bj–rk, Sigur RÛs, M™m. Once you hear his music, references to the former artists would be redundant, however the music itself is anything but: drum loops and percussion awash in introspective guitars and the tempo, just above the speed at which ice melts in Iceland.
Jetscreamer
A friend and I were talking about The Walkmen appearing on the OC (Thursdays on Fox!) recently, and he brought up a conversation he had with some teens about a band selling out cause some big corporation used one of their songs in a commercial. He pointed out to the kids that, actually, a kid like them had grown up, landed a job at an ad agency, and had the power to place a favorite song in a big commercial. Speaking of The Walkmen, I have Saturn to thank for helping me discover that some members of my beloved Jonathan Fire*eater were back in action as The Walkmen. And how about the odd couple of Fischerspooner and Hummer? So take Jetscreamer and their song “Black Hole” being used in a Nissan commercial. Sellout? Listen to their blend of Sonic Youth and the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion and make your own decision.
Earlimart
My friend Tim Ortopan, who offered the tip for Earlimart, describes their music as “intelligent pop that’s true to an indie-rock spirit.” I’ll add four more words — brooding, ethereal, fuzzy, complex — and suggest a peek at The Ship, the multi-purpose LA music collective of which Earlimart is a part.
Treeball
I have a soft spot for subversive pop music. The kind that’s equally cynical and sentimental. The kind where you’ll be driving your mom somewhere and she’ll say, “Well, this sure is a nice song.” The kind where you say, “Yeah, it’s about scoring blow in Bolivia.” The kind with monkey love metaphors (or maybe they’re not metaphors, either way…). The kind that stays with you long after you stop thinking about the lyrics. The kind with beautiful boy/girl vocals and a Finnish mailing address.
The Aphrodisiacs
Scotland’s The Aphrodisiacs have a great story. They were friends just goofin’ around who recorded one demo and mailed it the late John Peel. A week later he called them up and asked if he could play it on the radio. So without ever playing a gig and having recorded only one song, they were invited down to London to record a Peel Session. Listen to their dark grooves and see why John Peel picked up the phone.
Giant Drag
Just out of high school I fell in love with a girl named Annie. We went to the same school, but never met until it was all over and we were off to college. A fleeting relationship. Well I just fell in love with another Annie. At least the music she makes. Annie’s guitars sound all warm and fuzzy, her voice soft and soothing, even when she’s singing heartbreaking songs to me. And she too has been right here all along, close, in my backyard. I long for the great times we could’ve had if only I’d met her a little sooner.
DJ Riko
Our friend Jacob sent my wife a link with the following note: “Heard this tonight on KCRW and immediately thought that Sam would dig it…” I’m not sure if he thought I’d dig it because it comes from an album called Latter Day Taints (a knowing nod to my Mormon peeps) or because I’m a closet whistler. Either way, he’s right, I dig it real good. DJ Riko is a plundering masher-upper cat from Columbus, Ohio who either doesn’t have a day job or doesn’t sleep ’cause he’s mad prolific. For “Whistler’s Delight” he pulls a crateful of whistled “riffs” from various songs, beginning with Peter Gabriel’s “Games Without Frontiers,” and takes us on a spotter’s field trip. By the way, if you can name all 22 songs used herein by year’s end, email Riko and he might award you with one of his fancy bootleg CDs. See his site for more details, and many more downloads — including a nice 55MB holiday mix.
Spaghetti Western
Sometimes melancholic, sometimes dimly hopeful compositions perfect for drives through the Mojave at dusk. The suggestion comes with a warning: Spaghetti Western may induce hallucinations of a Parisian circus circa 1890, slow-mo, black and white, flashbacks to a dizzy meal at La Mela in Little Italy, or of rainy Sunday mornings in a dark bedroom, illuminated by a PowerBook G4, eating Hershey’s Kisses, keying MP3 reviews into Movable Type.
Slender
Slender is one of my favorite bands in the whole world, and it’s not just because my friend Kent is the bass player and he came all the way from San Francisco to Bay City, Michigan, for my wedding a few years ago. Come to think of it, Kent was probably at most of the 3hive crew’s weddings, both as guest and guest-musician, but that’s not the point. Slender’s repertoire is full of songs both low-down dirty and downright happy, and they often manage to toss in relevant social commentary as well. I always thought “No Love” would be perfect PA music for a fight at a hockey (or basketball) game.
Hello Goodbye
Two Racing Junior bands within the same week? Just shows that good 3hivers think alike. When a Swede was named coach of the English national soccer team, an angry British tabloid columnist wrote: “We’ve sold our birthright down the fjord to a nation of seven million skiers and hammer-throwers who spend half their lives in darkness.” If that’s what it takes to make music like the Scandanavians, i.e., Norway’s Hello Goodbye and Kawaii and Sweden’s The Radio Dept, who exactly do I need to sell my birthright to?