About 10 years ago on Thanksgiving, my grandpa waited until everyone had their mouths full, as he did when he really wanted our attention, then he shared a dream he’d recently had about how he was Santa Claus. In the dream, he was surrounded by adoring elves. Pretty cute, huh? Except they weren’t elves — they were strippers peeling off their skimpy green outfits and jockeying to, ahem, take a ride on Santa’s bowl full of jelly. Naturally, my mom and aunt were appalled. And, naturally, I had to bite my lower lip hard to keep from blasting my stuffing across the table. Man, I miss him. I hadn’t thought of that story for a long time before hearing Lee “Scratch†Perry’s “Pum Pum,†the dancefloor anthem from Perry’s ambitious new album, produced by his pal Andrew W.K. Most people know Perry as a legendary Jamaican musician and producer who helped create both the signature waka-waka sound of reggae and the signature stoned production quality of dub, among other influential moves. He is a giant among giants despite his diminutive stature — truly a living legend. He’s also a dirty old man. I can’t sincerely say that “Pum Pum†is one of my favorite tracks right now just like I can’t say that this Spring-Winter pairing of W.K. and Perry is the same as Rick Rubin and Johnny Cash, but I can say that it’s pretty fascinating. The crazy old bastard in the multicolored hat manages to mix reggaeton-style beats and synths with pornstar moans, lots of dirty-talk and, inexplicably, Jesus. Or that’s what I think he does. Truthfully, I can only understand about half of what is going on at any given time in “Pum Pum,†but I’m pretty sure it’s naughty. That’s part of the allure. Some are calling Perry’s new album a return to form. That may be so, but to me it sounds more like a lovingly perverse old coot flipping the bird at all of us and speaking what’s on the unfiltered side of his mind. Grandpa would be proud.
New ТелеВИЗИОННЫЙ from The Hectors
McCarthy Trenching
That Omaha ain’t that great sometimes isn’t really news. I’m from Detroit; tell me about it. That glimmer of hope for a better tomorrow is usually dashed somehow, in political scandal, murder, the weather, whatever. McCarthy Trenching, fronted by Nebraska singer-songwriter Dan McCarthy, captures acutely the extinguishing of that glimmer. All three of these songs are about as down as you can get, full of missed opportunity, booze, etc. And based on how natural and real they sound, you’d think McCarthy was a Michigan boy.
Andy Grooms Living Room
Time to return to my Memphis roots with Andy Grooms, and his album Greatful to Burn under the Andy Grooms Living Room moniker on Memphis’s Makeshift Music. “Mary Or Mephisto” is a genre blending song, jumping from trippy blues-tinged psych guitar to jazz piano leaning toward 70’s pop.
The Wedding Present
It’s been three years since The Wedding Present re-emerged from the ashes of Cinerama with the album Take Fountain. They’re back with what could be labeled David Gedge’s “L.A. album.” He lived in West Hollywood while he wrote these songs and it comes through in both tone and content (tons of references to L.A. landmarks, including the album title, El Rey, named after the famous mid-Wilshire venue). That said, the album was recorded in Chicago with the legendary Steve Albini (who also produced the seminal Seamonsters album), who roughs up each tune with the appropriate gloom and grit to match Gedge’s trademark forlorn lyrics—tempered occasionally by bassist Terry De Castro’s sweet vocals. Keep an eye out for tour dates (yes, Joe, I bought tickets for the Pontiac show) for your chance to catch one of the loudest shows I’ve ever witnessed.
Original post from 12/23/2004:
Multiple Choice:
Since 1985, The Wedding Present have provided
A) a distinct solace for those utterly steeped in general feelings of jealousy and rebuke.
B) David Gedge, a lead singer with a charmingly lousy voice and a ridiculously thick Leeds accent.
C) fantastic guitar riffs, faster in the carefree ’80s and wiser in the new millenium.
D) reliably good Brit-pop for longer than the flavor-of-the-week has been alive.
E) all of the above.
(It’s E, duh.)
Conor Oberst
Merge Records has this up-and-comer named Conor Oberst. Have you heard of him? He’s been in all sorts of bands or something. Now he’s releasing a self-titled album, which would make you think that it’s just him and a guitar but really he has this group called the Mystic Valley Band, which is a trip because it’s talking about the valley in Mexico where the album was recorded when you would think, from listening to “Danny Callahan,†that it was recorded in a not-so-mystic valley closer to Oberst’s hometown of Omaha, Nebraska. Much of the album has that same vibe: reflective roadhouse ballads with rousing instrumentation and lush lyricism. This Conor Oberst fella writes some decent songs. He might just have a future. You heard it here first.
Video Premiere: Karl Hector & the Malcouns
Cameron Latimer
The backstory to this post is that there’s an Eagles album in my old Sony 5 disc changer, and while I’ve been loving it I’ve also wanted to hit up some country rock that’s a little more recent. Jesse over at Killbeat Music in Vancouver, BC, didn’t know this, but he sent Cameron Latimer’s upcoming album Fallen Apart anyway. Perfect. Latimer is a Canadian music veteran, with background in a mess of genres. That said, he sticks to the roots on his solo debut, and offers up a strong set of steel guitar-soaked bar tunes, full of heartbreak and prairie light. While the available download, “Empty Saddle,” is heavy on the C&W, there’s a lot of shuffle and slide on the other tracks on Fallen Apart, making Cameron Latimer’s work a nice indie accompaniment to Henley, Frey and the other guys.
Stereolab
It’d be safe to say we’re all mad fans of Stereolab. A quick search of our archives reveals nine references to Stereolab as we introduced you to new artists by appealing to your taste in international, space-age pop. There are many more bands that aspire to Stereolab’s neu-lounge sound, but few can keep up with the quality and quantity of output. Never wandering far from their signature sound or formula, Stereolab astonishingly remains relevant and refreshing. For this, their 11th, album the band once again used Sean O’Hagan as producer and arranger. According to Tim Gane, the album began as seventy tiny drum loops on top of improvised piano and vibraphone chords. They sped up some tracks, slowed down others and worked their way to “a collection of purposefully short, dense, fast pop songs.” The track here is definitely one of my favorites from the album, a groovin’ romp where horns and organ build to bursting point, threatening to release contagiously good vibrations. All the while Ms. Sadier keeps her perennial cool, which always melts my butter.
FYI: While supplies last, pre-order the album (street date: August 19th) and receive a limited edition 7-inch. The band tours North America in September and October.
Dub Narcotic Sound System
Sam’s recent post of Shelleyan Orphan had me looking through my vinyl, something I do maybe four times a year these days. I don’t own either of the bands from his post, but I did stumble across an old gem from Dub Narcotic Sound System, formed in 1993 and named after the Dub Narcotic Studio, the studio of Calvin Johnson, founder of K Records. While my personal favorite “Teenage Timebomb” is not available for free download, the funky smoothness of Calvin’s Pacific Northwest, baritone white boy rap on “Handclappin'” is.