Adding to our slowcore archive always delights me. Sometimes something really mellow is exactly what you need. Right around New Year’s seems to be one of those times. There’s always so much going on around the holidays and then there’s a brief moment of reflection around the new year just before you jump back into your daily grind. Unlearn encourages us to do otherwise. Unlearn the daily grind. Un-do bad habits. Add constructive ones. Don’t speed back up. Make time to experience the unexpected, the new, the mundane. Seattle’s Unlearn create epiphanic post-rock songs, much like Sigur Ros or the quieter moments of Mogwai, songs that build slowly, extend those moments of reflection, and spark new connections in our paved-over synapses.
Times New Viking
Times New Viking sure make a whole lotta racket for only three people. The fuzz, the pounding, the screeching organ; it’s like The Velvets on speed, the Velvets how they sounded in the earphones of the young, impressionable future members of Times New Viking.
Neil Halstead
Today’s Christmas special comes courtesy of Brushfire Records. Looking for last minute Christmas music? Download this festive collection and 25% of the profit goes to support children’s music education. Lots of stocking stuffers here from Matt Costa, Money Mark, Rogue Wave, and of course Jack Johnson, but I can never pass up Neil Halstead’s toe-tapping authenticity song, so I’m passing this one along to you. Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukkah. Cheers.
The Man in the Santa Suit [MP3, 3.8MB, 160kbps]
A Block of Yellow
Not only does “Are You Sure?” take the prize for being the sunniest song about winter I’ve heard all year, it also wins the best Beulah song since Beulah broke up four and half years ago. It also happens to be one of my favorite songs of the year. A Block of Yellow’s bright melodies come directly from the Elephant 6 Collective songbook and the general ’60s garage pop sound. A Block of Yellow chased with a hot cup of cocoa will run the chill right out of your fingertips and toes this winter.
3hive’s Top 25 of 2008
Wintermitts
Wintermitts is a quartet from Vancouver, that inexplicably chipper Canadian raintown that is lax on the doobie laws and serious about its pop music. Wintermitts is so serious that it features accordion and flute regularly and bring in horns, harmonica, melodica, and even glockenspiel for extra-special occasions. If that weren’t enough, they’re also serious conservationists — they gave away an Heirloom tomato seedling with their previous CD, aptly, Heirloom. But wait…there’s more. They sing in French sometimes, and sometimes is perfect because us monolinguists can enjoy how they make an octopus a symbol for true love (really, it’s not far-fetched at all once you know that octopi have three hearts) in English and then enjoy whatever blah blah blah they’re saying in French on tracks like “Petit Monstre.” Seriously, Lise Monique Oakley can be singing about emptying the litter box for all I know and I still want to grab her and say “Kiss me, mon amour!”
Ox
Regarding that which we would term “Americana,” do they call it “Canadiana” in the land to the North? Just curious. Ox = American lo-fi alt country from Canada. They showed up on a nice little sampler from Weewerk that I’ve been listening to like a homemade mix-tape lately. My favorite among these tracks is probably “Transam,” which with its wavering vocals and shady narrative (not to mention the Bond-themed guitar solo) kind of reminds me of those Neil Young songs about drug shipments and getting burned. The thing is, download any of these freebies from Ox’s two albums and you’ll find great narratives wailed over stripped down simplicity. This time less is more.
Starf**ker
I’m certainly no longer a teenager, but Starf**ker makes me want to call my mom and tell her “I love this band named… STARF**KER” just because I will have a way to drop the f-bomb in front of her with immunity. Now I’m certainly way too grown to think of cussing a some form of small rebellion, but this album makes me feel young again! Like I can hang out until 5am on a Monday night! Like I might run off with a bass player and become West Coast Lisa! Like I don’t have to go to work in an hour! Like Long Island Iced Teas are still an acceptable drink! None of this is true in any way, but I believe in an album that can make me believe these things for at least a moment. SF is from Portland, the music is dreamy, happy/sad pop and they rock my socks off. Your turn.
The Traditionist
Here’s one that’s been hiding right under my nose, Joey Barro, aka The Traditionist, a gentle-voiced crooner chronicling the details of his life through song. The liberal harmonica and slide guitar on “I Know My Ocean” makes it sound as if Barro’s an Austin 6th Street local and when he sings about the “sting of pine needles” on “Driftwood Doll” you imagine he’s recording in some cabin deep in Montana’s mountains. These assumptions would be wrong. Barro could be found guilty by association associating sonically with such surf-folk artists as Matt Costa or Neil Halstead. The loose and bouncy “A Sleep Be Told” easily charms and surprises when fuzzy guitars and a bubbly organ percolate their way through the bridge. Barro’s soft and poetic strains are a welcome antithesis to Huntington Beach’s unfortunately traditional dude-buddy-bro-jack-up-your-four-wheeler attitude.
Pallers
Just the other day, my buddy Roland from my freshman year of college said on Facebook that “Love Like Blood” by Killing Joke was the best song ever. While I think “The Fall of Because” is Killing Joke’s best song (let’s not even get started on the topic of “Best Song Ever”), it did cause me to pull out some old records of other electronic tinged artists of that era that Roland introduced me to, namely Click Click’s Rorschach Testing and Clan of Xymox’s self-titled LP. The Labrador Records site describes Pallers as “the darkest and finest electronic music we’ve heard in a long time.” That’s the perfect description of Pallers, who take the dark electronics of the previously named bands, yet add vocals with an amazing Swedish pop sensibility a la fellow Swedes The Radio Dept, making what was old new again.