These guys dig women…or their names, at least. Not just the “Saturday Night Live” star after which they’re named (twice, for good measure), but every track on their debut album is named after famous-to-obscure female celebrities (if you can identify all of them without the help of Google, my hat’s off to you). What connection they all have with each other is a mystery to me (“Batgirl, Miss America 1954, and a French physicist walk into a bar…”). And that mystery is only furthered by their nearly unintelligible lyrics and eclectic compositions (ranging from Eno-esque to bluegrass to indie spunk). What I do know is some strangely compelling songs emerge from the artsy din, “Bianca Montale” probably being the most conventional of the lot.
Joe Pug
There’s been a fair amount of turmoil in my life of late: relocation from The Big Northeastern City to The Little Southern City, new job, first house, first child—basically we’ve inadvertently fit all of the major milestones of adulthood into about a 12-month span. It’s got me a little out of sorts, which may explain why I’ve gravitated more than normal toward singer-songwriters. Surely I’m softening in my mid-30s, but there’s just something about an acoustic guitar and a single voice that brings focus to my overactive mind. Joe Pug’s voice and guitar have a particular resonance in this regard. Pug is a Chicago carpenter by day and a troubadour by night. He possesses the eyes, mop, and even a hint of the vocal cords of a young Bob Dylan. More importantly, he possesses the strumming fingers and lush songbook of an all-American folk singer. In Pug’s hard plucking, exaggerated choruses, and lyrical vignettes you can draw a pretty straight line from Woody Guthrie to Bob Dylan to Johnny Cash to Bruce Springsteen to Steve Earle to Josh Ritter. Like all of them, Pug is a populist at heart, a singer who can’t help but talk about all of us when he sings about himself and can’t help but sing about himself when he’s talking about all of us. I’m a sucker for a good line and this one from “Hymn #101” is one of my favorites right now: “I’ve come to meet the sheriff and his posse/ to offer him the broad side of my jaw/ I’ve come here to get broke/ and maybe bum a smoke/ we’ll go drinkin’ two towns over after all.” It could just be a comic-tragic put-on and you probably have to feel some turmoil yourself to truly appreciate it, but “Hymn #101” is full of lines that will fill you with both heartbreak and euphoria. It’s good to be reminded that that’s why we listen to music in the first place.
Great Lakes Myth Society
Ok, so Great Lakes Myth Society is bringing their ornate, stylized, vaguely ’70s medieval rock to an outdoor stage about two blocks from my house this weekend! How cool is that? The 3hive crew often talks about trying to catch the shows of the bands we post, but usually our real lives interfere and we’re left with the wistful memories of life before kids, wherein we could function past 9:30 pm and therefore go to shows. With this weekend’s Green Street Fair in Plymouth, Michigan, all I need to do is open my window to rock out with my fellow Great Lakes Staters. About the band: based in Ann Arbor, GLMS offers up orchestrated, big rock, the kind that probably needs to be written out on sheet music in order to perform. I like “Brablec Farms” and “Across the Bridge,” as both are complex yet user-friendly pop-rock gems, full of texture and imagery. And hopefully that’s what I’ll see and hear on Saturday in town, while checking out these local boys.
KUCI Fund Drive
Reeve Oliver
Did you notice? Reeve Oliver’s initials are R.O., the first two letters in the word “rock.” You know where I’m going with this don’t you? Well, they do! They rock like alternative radio circa the late ’90s when bands like Foo Fighters were ruling the airwaves and alternative radio wasn’t all that alternative any more. Reeve Oliver is one of those no-it’s-not-a-dude-but-the-name-of-their-band bands from San Diego who recently recorded their second album courtesy of a major label only to have the major label back out of the deal. Luckily, the band was able to get control of the record so it didn’t end up getting shelved, out of sight, out of mind for years. A few songs on this new album are re-recordings of previous releases, the band wisely choosing to spend big money production on their strongest songs, e.g. “Yer Motion.” I dig the band’s oh, so tasty melodies, melodies you wouldn’t usually hear on a rock record. They remind me a lot of Erik Voek’s lithe vocal melodies, a genius, under-the-radar pop recluse that I can never get enough of. And really, when you’ve got a secret weapon like O. (Olivelawn, Fluf) up your sleeve it’s pwnage time. Play often, play loud, play now.
The Great Outdoors
I’ve got a copy of Spring, the first of the seasonal EPs that The Great Outdoors is releasing over the course of the next year, but I’m not going to open it before running this post. (There don’t seem to be any free & legal MP3 downloads from it anyway…) The Great Outdoor is Adam Nation and his random band of whoever happens to be around in Vancouver at the time. I remember wanting to post the band back when his album Food, Booze and Entertainment came out last year, and the tracks available here are from that disc. Check out “Chekhov and I,” an opposite-world version of Neil Young’s “Out on the Weekend” that nicely captures Nation’s gravelly-voiced storytelling, tastefully supported by acoustic guitar. “If I Were a Car” does the same kind of thing with lovely thin female backing vocals and appropriately grating strings that match a dark story of escape. I’m assuming the seasons EPs will tell more textured tales from Nation’s book of experiences, and I’m going to go find out right now.
Stream the new Portishead
The Sound of Arrows
I just felt it in the air. It’s a warm fuzzy feeling in that glob of fat my skull houses, otherwise known as a brain. This warm fuzzy feeling reminds me to check in on the label that consistently provides me with warm fuzzy music: Labrador. They just signed a Stockholm duo, The Sound of Arrows, who dress as if they’re living on a polygamist ranch in Texas and sound like The Avalanches mixing Placebo. I look forward to hearing more from these pleasantly pastel pals when their 9-song EP is out in May.
Alibi Tom
Another day, another Swedish band changing its name (see The LK). Now it’s
Out Of Clouds changing their name to Alibi Tom, with a change in members and a change in style. In my previous post, I described Out Of Clouds as being influenced by ABBA and 70’s AM radio. Let me also change that, dropping the ABBA reference (hey now, it was true, not just because they’re Swedish) to say their smart, hook-throwing indie rock is influenced by 70’s AM radio. So here’s to new beginnings, and their debut LP Scrapbook out May 4.
Stars Like Fleas
Stars Like Fleas is a Brooklyn-based collective of musicians you probably haven’t heard of from bands you probably have heard of (especially if you’re a regular to 3hive). At the nucleus are Montgomery Knott (vocals) and Shannon Fields (everything else). It was Shannon who emailed us to say that Stars Like Fleas will be releasing their third album after “a fair bit of wandering-in-the-desert time.” That’s gotta be some kind of crazy metaphor ’cause they recorded the album in Iceland—with Bjork’s producer, Valgeir Sigurðsson—and I don’t think there are any deserts there. Wherever it was that they wandered, they appear to have lost their penchant for unstructured, free jazz compositions and replaced it with a knack for lushly-orchestrated pop epics. The single, “I Was Only Dancing,” is a precise audio replication of a cloudburst falling on parched earth, sandwiched between slices of warm sunlight. Bathe/bask in it and you’ll see why it’s already one of my favorites of the year.