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.
Shelleyan Orphan
As some of you know, I spent the first half of the ’90s living in Provo, Utah. I worked at two CD stores during that time and it’s quite possible that I sold more CDs by The Sundays than any other band. Perhaps there was a common misinterpretation of the Fourth Commandment but Provo couldn’t get enough of The Sundays. Which leads to my story…
There was this guy who came in to the CD store one night and he said, “I love The Sundays. Do they have any other albums out?”
“No,” I said, “but if you like them you might enjoy Shelleyan Orphan. Similar female vocals and even more interesting instrumentation and song structures.”
“Hmm,” he said. “I don’t know. Do they sound just like The Sundays?”
“They’re even better,” I said, handing him a copy of Century Flower (the most Sundays-ish of their three albums). “If you don’t think so, you can return the CD.” Keep in mind, according to store policy I could not return opened merchandise, so this would have meant me buying back as used and paying him the difference. My co-workers warned me, this guy wasn’t going to go for something as adventurous as Shelleyan Orphan. But I was sure he’d not only appreciate my recommendation but tell all his friends about his new find.
Same time the next day, he walks in. “I didn’t like it. It doesn’t sound anything like The Sundays.”
That’s when I realized, to go back to the Bible, I was casting pearls before swine. I wasn’t going to be able to talk him into liking Shelleyan Orphan. So I paid the man from my own pocket and told him he wasn’t getting any more advice from me. “Let me know when the new Sundays album comes out,” he said, as he walked out the door.
Shelleyan Orphan disbanded shortly thereafter, no doubt disheartened that some dork in Utah didn’t think they sounded enough like The Sundays. After 15 years of soul-searching and playing in other bands, Caroline Crawley and Jemaur Tayle have recorded a new Shelleyan Orphan record, We Have Everything We Need, available in October 2008. Please enjoy the bluegrass-inspired single, which I will admit sounds nothing like The Sundays.