Red Red Meat – Bunny Gets Paid (Deluxe Edition)

Sub Pop originally released Chicago band Red Red Meat’s third album Bunny Gets Paid in 1995, and have recently reissued it as a double disc with a remaster job (courtesy of drummer Brian Deck) and a half hour of bonus material from that era. 2009 is almost fifteen years on and the “music scene” can seem like it’s splintered into a semi-coherent web of adjectives. That doesn’t matter much with Bunny Gets Paid, which sounds as freshly removed from time and scene now as it did when it was originally released. Seeing how it has been out of print for a few years, now seems like as good a time as any to introduce it to those who missed it the first time around.

Sandwiched between their most by-the-books, blues and folk-damaged rock album, Jimmywine Majestic, and their tripped-out, experimental swan song There’s a Star Above the Manger Tonight; Bunny Gets Paid exists in retrospect as a judicial synthesis of the best parts of those two albums, a solid core of songwriting filtered through daring sonic sensibilities. The studio experimentation that the band allowed themselves with this album is notable for being the starting point of Califone’s singular vision of twisted Americana, and of the career of one of indie’s most singular producers, Brian Deck. But as this reissue shows, Bunny Gets Paid is also notable in its own right for being Red Red Meat’s most consistent and engaging effort.

Even though none of the songs are longer than five and a half minutes, the songs here take their time to unfurl. The slower songs (“Carpet of Horses”, “Buttered”) achieve a stillness that makes them seem longer than their running time, and allows them to brew up a murky remembrance of decay swirling inside a hazy cloud of wistful dread.  The whole album has a rusty and weathered feel, a built-in agedness in its traditional touchstones of acoustic strumming, slide guitar, and finger-picking that prevents it from properly aging. The sound is sensuous and tactile, exploring a continuum of raucous-to-caustic guitar tones, throbbing rhythms, clear-ringing chords, droopy bent notes, and feedback intermingling with incidental sounds like breaking glass and a man coughing.  The string-bending and slide guitar runs bolster the impression that this music is built from dimensions of the past, skewed and fortified through the years by reconstructed memories, brain damage, and long-term sleep deprivation. Listening to the less meandering tracks like “Idiot Sun” and “Oxtail”, it’s difficult to imagine the formative years of Modest Mouse, one of the bands Deck later produced at their peak, without this record coming first.

Singer and principal songwriter Tim Rutili’s free verse lyrical style feeds the overall feeling with disconnected images, simultaneously beautiful and ugly. The first verse of the album sets the tone, “lit deep, tin drops/half the lights, shot out/the roof of your mouth/ back in your hollow, odd habits, odd.” The surreal images of flesh, decay, temptation, injury, misplaced technology, preening saviors, and grand-gestured failure spew forth like blood from a fresh wound until the last song, a cover of a song from the Rudolph the Reindeer stop-motion kid’s television special, finally shows an overt gesture of hope.

Rutili’s singing adds to the mystique, his voice sounding strained and mournful (“Gauze”), sometimes pissed off (“Rosewood, Wax, Voltz + Glitter”), but usually resigned. The singer of these songs sounds full of hard-won wisdom, albeit wisdom that he can only spit out in fractured form, hidden in code, probably for the sake of both he and his listener. On Bunny Gets Paid, everything came together for Red Red Meat and the band successfully communicated a coherent worldview amidst incoherence, a worldview where the world is hard to understand on its own terms, where a sublime form of survival is bestowed upon those who absorb the nastiness of the struggle, where tradition is hard to forget but fun to fuck around with, and where the grotesque and the beautiful exist only as mutually dependent entities. Seriously, just look at that album cover.

Red Red Meat

Sub Pop

Kylesa – Static Tensions

Static Tensions is the fourth album from Savannah, Georgia metal mavens Kylesa and it may well be the best damn album the band’s released and one of the finest of 2009, metal or otherwise. With this, Kylesa take the leap into the big leagues by delivering on the promise of previous release Time Will Fuse Its Worth. Listeners are bombarded with a dual drummer attack and razor sharp downtuned riffage that would make bands like Teeth of the Hydra, High On Fire, and Weedeater proud, while managing to be both more psychedelic and more technically proficient sounding than any of them.

Static Tensions begins with one drum track only to be fleshed out with an additional bit of thunder on “Scapegoat.” But the real treasure here is the mammoth riff on second track, “Insomnia For Months.” The whole song clocks in at just above two minutes and Kylesa waste no time wasting the listener with Sabbath style riffage played at Discharge speed. This in itself would not be that noteworthy, many bands have succeeded at the very same thing and in fact the three mentioned in the previous paragraph are all excellent at employing this tactic to varying degrees. Separating Kylesa from the hordes of other doom/sludge bands practicing this particular style is made easier now with the more pronounced vocals of both Laura Pleasants and Phil Cope. There’s far less of the burly growling found on the band’s earlier works, instead Static Tensions favors a slightly more melodic approach that really works. Elsewhere, as on “Unknown Awareness,” the group delivers wandering passages of spacey guitar noodling to maximum effect. These seem designated to bottom the music out so that the next wave of riffage appears far heavier than it had before.

Kylesa deserve recognition for such a great album. The band has been around since 2001 and includes former members of hardcore groups such as Cobra Kai and Damad going back even farther than that. After four albums of some of the heaviest heavy metal thunder that the south has to offer, it’s about time Kylesa got its due. Static Tensions is just the kind of record that may appeal to those outside of the insular world of metal, which may lead to some cries of bullshit by those who have been with Kylesa for a long time. If anything, I welcome more exposure so that the band can continue to crank out great records.It isn’t as if they’re in any danger of stepping on Mastodon’s toes any time soon- even if they are currently making better albums than those Georgia grammy nominees.

www.kylesa.com

www.20buckspin.com

www.prostheticrecords.com

Gui Boratto – Take My Breath Away

Let me preface this a bit, just a little bit. Have you ever spoken to people who listen to electronic music and who seem to have such a, for lack of a better word, pretentious stand on it? This can be seen from two sides: the side that listens to only club standards and dare say they know everything there is to know about the genre and then there are those who claim to know every sub-genre underneath the electronic name and scoff at people who use the word ‘electronica.’

Where exactly am I going with this? Well, let’s see. Electronic music is a HUGE genre with a multitude of genres underneath its shadow. Who’s to say who knows more than whom, and who’s the say at what depth is one considered an expert or lowly novice? In either regard, the music that Gui Boratto creates is the kind that any music fan can love, pretentious music lover or not. The fact that I write reviews myself can be deemed as self-righteous on its own but I’m not here to declare what kind of electronic music you should listen to. What I am here to do is to point you in the direction of Take My Breath Away, Boratto’s exceptionally crafted new album.

Get your headphones on and listen at the five-minute marker of “Atomic Soda” and on. Snappy synths stab at the outermost region of the speaker and just as that thumping bump comes in, it’s begging for submission. Boratto then takes his hand off the pedal and leans back before returning with head-nodding drums and a syncopated percussion line; it’s all superbly accomplished. This is just one side of Boratto’s genius and one of many that is on full display here.

Following his 2007 breakthrough success, Chromophobia, Boratto has unleashed a lush and diverse array of music. Whereas that erstwhile album focused on the simplicity of beat-making and house music, the title itself was Borratto’s attempt to showcase this, Take My Breath Away follows in the similar path with a progressive outlook. It’s as if the Brazilian producer never stopped making music and in many ways, this all feels like one long extension.

“No Turning Back” is the embodiment of what electronic music should be. With its tear-drop aesthetics, rhythmic interlay and the relaying movement, it desires to be one of the many songs DJs should be playing at their clubs. Boratto carefully layers all of the music, adding percussive patterns there, a melodic line here, before everything explodes into a booming ecstasy of music. The female vocals are a nice touch and, as it goes, the best song is also the only one with any vocals.

In other parts, the album’s opener and title track set the mood with a laid-back refrain and clashing cymbals. This is an accomplished asset for Boratto and his music because it deserves attention but it’s also the kind of music that fits the mood as you’re dozing off and relaxing or when you are in the groove and in need of awesome workout music. Elsewhere, “Besides” is a musically-rich ballad that features a skillful guitar melody and in the style of orchestral strings, Boratto delivers keyboard-inflected harmonies. On “Colors,” Boratto asserts himself with misty atmospherics and a reflective amount of low-ended bass and meticulous drums. He’s in full control here and it’s obvious he has buckets of ideas floating around.

This is keenly composed music and it’s delivered in such a marvelous manner, you’d be foolish to pass it up. Just listen to that melody on “Azurra” and tell me it’s not entirely delectable. Not only does Boratto make gifted electronic music for either side of the electronic spectrum but he makes gifted music for anyone.  Take My Breath Away is all you can ask for in that respect.

Kompakt

The Telescopes – # Untitled Second

# Untitled Second, originally released on Creation way back in 1992 and here reissued by Bomp! Records as both CD and limited edition white vinyl , marks the first Stateside release of the oft-forgotten dream-pop groups’  second full-length. Bomp!’s treatment sees the record get snazzy new packaging (displayed in the image to the left) and three bonus tracks. But, when it wasn’t available but to the most dedicated of record shoppers, what do extras matter, anyway?

Though this is The Telescopes‘ second LP, a handful of EPs still lie between it and Taste, their ‘89 debut record. The difference between the two is appreciable – Taste is very much an artifact of its time, teeming with cut-and-dry shoegaze tropes and Jesus and Mary Chain-isms while # Untitled Second is as robust a pop album as you’re likely encounter on Creation, sounding a bit like a companion piece, somewhat in sound and most definitely in breadth, to the Verve’s A Storm in Heaven. Other points of reference: Ride, in its ability to comfortably return to more straightforward rock after floating amongst the clouds; Slowdive, in its breathiness; Spacemen 3, for being able to hover right in front of you while still moving forward.

I’m certainly trying not to deny the band its own agency through all these references; somehow, operating within a genre so easily self-confined, they carved out a moderately distinctive sound for themselves, as well. It comes out best through minor details, like the hints of piano that shimmer briefly in “You Set My Soul,” or bongos, organs, banjo, and sitar strewn about other places. These extras communicate well with the band’s general framework, often consisting of transcendent visions built on a foundation of strummed acoustic guitars and then prodded forward by outburts of heavily-affected electrics. Occasionally, chaos is granted center-stage, like in “Ocean Drive” where feedback convulses violently for several minutes as the other instruments offer backing.

The three bonus tracks here are a version of “High on Fire” from the Flying EP, a reworking of “The Sleepwalk” that includes sitar, and “Sunspray,” a track absent from the original press of the album. Overall, # Untitled Second, is a useful diversion for any ‘gaze fans that may have missed out on The Telescopes the first time around.

Distant Lights – Simulacrum

As much as I adore virtuosity and complex arrangements, I also admire good, simple songwriting. Very often we’re given one or the other by bands, and while that’s fine, the most respectable acts fuse them. With Simulacrum, Distant Lights has done just that. Sometimes there is a clear separation between the two, but for the most part, the album is an enjoyable hybrid.

Distant Lights is a quintet from Texas which prides itself as “…a union of schooled and seasoned musicians with high ideals and extreme musical standards.” The group consists of cellist Jon Dexter, lead vocalist Gabriel Fry, songwriter and guitarist Gaelan Bellamy, bassist Sam Marshall, and drummer Chris Hynes. Together, they create music that’s new because of how it’s combined.

The verse of “Dystopia” is fairly common; a decent melody and clean guitar riffs. What keeps it interesting is the use of cello throughout to give it an orchestral feeling. Also, the chorus is very catchy, and Fry’s voice is a great blend of power and vulnerability. He is a great singer. The track also has a pretty heavy middle section and the closing moments slow down for sad harmonies. This track foreshadows how the album will shift between sparse songwriting and kick ass jams.

“Unity,” for some reason, reminds me of Incubus…only much better. There is a cool echo on the guitar and nice atmospheric touches, but overall it’s a more average song than the last. That said the passion Fry puts in makes it worthwhile. “The Glitch” begins with a nice piano treatment before harmonics, a steady drum beat and funky bass follow Fry’s voice. Again, this is a fairly standard pop song with impressive harmonies and string use, and thus the opening track is definitely the best so far. But suddenly things get heavier in the middle with a metallic bass sound and intricate guitar playing, which leads into another solo piano section. Things build back up again to a very crushing assault before the track ends with a cello solo (very uncommon for a standard rock band, which these guys aren’t). With these three songs, listeners may think they know what to expect from Simulacrum, but they don’t. The next track will blow your mind.

“Artifice” shows the truly progressive rock side of Distant Lights. It still has vocals, but the focus is much more on how creative and technical they can make the music. Actually, the verse and chorus isn’t anything special, but it doesn’t hurt anything either. There’s lightening fast time signature changes, guitar and cello solos, and very elaborate rhythms. If the opening tracks were better versions of everyday pop bands, this is Distant Lights combining Led Zeppelin, The Mars Volta and Curved Air. It would’ve been better as an instrumental intermission, but it’s still very impressive as is.

The tension filled, clever interplay of drums, guitar and cello that produce “Monolith” grabs your ears and never let go. Fry uses his voice only as wallpaper, occasionally springing up to complement the danger. It’s an apocalyptic chaos; the final battle between good and evil, and any fan of the heavy prog from the 70s will enjoy it. There are tons of little riffs by the strings that accent the other instruments, symbolizing the most affective moments of catastrophe. Moving back into normal song structures, “Patterns On The Rise” also brings back the unusually memorable hook that the second and third songs were missing. The short piano part that whispers behind Fry is haunting and an example of a subtle touch that greatly improves a track. The backing vocals aid the main one to create an encompassing sound, and the spacey, sad middle section is surprisingly moving. It sounds a bit like classic Genesis, which is never a bad thing. After some OK songs and two very tricky tracks, Simulacrum once again combines the two to great effect.

Fry continues to belt out his sorrow with “Grass,” which continues the trend of cello and clean guitar note accompaniment. It’s honestly another fairly straightforward, uninvolving piece (though, as usual, the passion in the vocals makes it at least valuable), and the only really interesting part is the short, prominent cello part near the end. Things get better with “Manifest,” which opens with some spacey effects (think Rush’s infamous “2112”) before another tricky guitar riff allows for more walking bass and syncopation. This song is more memorable, varied and unique than the last one because all the elements come together and separate at the right moments. The effects continue as the song crescendos in the middle and the double tracked guitar solo is very well done. You’ll hear new things with each listen.

“Metamorphosis” use various synthesized sounds (similar to what’s used at the end of Dark Side Of The Moon) and aerial ambiance to keep itself new. Again, the powerhouse of harmonies overwhelms listeners, and the riffs near the end are definitely reminiscent of Tool. It fades into closer “Emptiness And Ever,” which features a beautiful opening of building, emotional keyboards and a heartbroken, piercing guitar line. I must point out again, no matter how redundant, how powerful Fry’s voice is when stacked upon itself several times. The bridge allows the piano and guitar to back up the melody with some wonderful, simple ideas. By the end, every part meets to craft a loud, meaningful closure.

Simulacrum is a rare commodity. It successfully welds commercial pop melodies with the instrumentation and dynamics of progressive rock. The result is a consistently catchy and pleasant indie rock album with prog rock accompaniment and arrangement. Distant Lights jumps from subtle pop beauty to astonishing complex disturbance with ease. There are only a few missed opportunities (which are only considered so because of how good the rest is), and when they occur, the next track always makes up for it. It’s a sound you should definitely hear, and more bands should try to create.

Austin City Limits Line-up Announced

The rumors are true; Pearl Jam will join Dave Matthews Band and the Beastie Boys as headliners for this year’s festival. Held in Austin, Texas’ Zilker Park, the festival will also showcase Kings of Leon, Jack White’s new project, The Dead Weather, Mos Def and many more. One thing is for sure, I’ll be there again.

The festival is from October 2-4, and tickets have been on sale since early April. See the full line-up here.

Silversun Pickups – Swoon

Initially, I was feeling damned determined to write an entire review of the latest album from the Silversun Pickups without namedropping that other band with whom they share the SP acronym. My rationale for this, to be perfectly honest, was based on stubborn and illogical principles; surely a 21st century indie rock band from the eternally hip Silver Lake neighborhood of Los Angeles could not be a carbon copy of the Smashing Pumpkins (oops), those 90’s alt-rock titans who painstakingly melded their love of metal and psychedelia into a vitriolic blend of rage and Midwestern isolationism? The answer is shockingly complex. But regardless which side you veer toward, there is one universal: attaching the name of the Smashing Pumpkins to the Silversun Pickups belittles the tremendous accomplishments of the former and brings premature applause to the latter.

The Pickups started garnering Pumpkins comparisons back in 2006 when their debut, Carnavas, first dropped. The album, which sounded like it was dug out of a 10 year old time capsule, was appropriately saturated with layers of gritty guitar overdubs, swirling atmospheric flourishes, and the vocals of a man who also sounded like he occasionally sang through his nasal cavity. But where Billy Corgan was masterful in crafting complete albums that ran the gamut of human emotion from unbridled elation to bleak despair, Brian Aubert and his SoCal colleagues specialized more in a sound that was like a constant variation on “Quiet” and “Hummer”: gargantuan towers of guitar fuzz without the technical flair and lyrics that sounded less like poetic ruminations on life’s great struggles and more like the doe-eyed musings of infatuated teens.

Going with the “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” approach for their latest album, Swoon, it’s not terribly surprising to find the band once again brooding in a cauldron of fuzzy guitar riffs and percolating drum beats (albeit with the addition of the occasional string orchestra). Amidst lyrics of lies and deceit sung in a creepily androgynous voice, “There’s No Secret’s This Year” features an upbeat groove that is augmented by shards of six string crunch. It’s an energetic way to kick things off before the track dissolves and segues into the darkness of “The Royal We.” Complete with horror movie-worthy string glissandos and vocals that border on out of control in an attempt to validate the boldness of the lyrics (“We are ready for the siege and we are armed to the teeth”), the track somehow sounds at once familiar and yet wholly original. Other standout tunes include the lead single “Panic Switch,” which might just be the Pickups’ loudest song to date, and the pop-oriented “Substitution.”

For whatever slight variances the band indulges, they choose not to stray far from the path. While the Pumpkins were often criticized for their gratuitous use of overdubbing in the studio, there was little denying that the band knew how to exploit both ends of the dynamic spectrum, capable of going from a whisper to a roar faster than you could flick the toggle switch on a Fender Strat. Digital production being what it is these days, all of the dramatic highs and lows of the recording process have been compressed and therefore compromised. What this means is that even beautifully melancholy tunes like “Draining” and “Catch & Release” end up packing very little emotional punch. One thing that made the Pumpkins so irresistibly quirky was their willingness to experiment with new timbres in the studio. Though it didn’t always work, it made for an engaging listen. Silversun Pickups, anchored by Aubert’s high tenor and unlimited distortion pedal collection, unfortunately rely upon the same formula for most of the songs on Swoon. While it could be argued that the rhythm section of Nikki Monninger (bass) and Chris Guanlao (drums) brings an energy to this band in a way that D’Arcy and Jimmy Chamberlain were never able to collectively do in the Smashing Pumpkins, their talents are frequently overshadowed by the hypnotic swaths of keyboard and crushingly heavy walls of guitar that dominate the mix.

The Silversun Pickups have clearly studied the crib notes on the Siamese Dream and Mellon Collie… chapters of the Pumpkins’ playbook and logged a decent book report, but they are far from a thesis. The fuzzed out riffage and ethereal interludes are in place, but Swoon lacks the diverse textures, clever lyrics, and emotional depth that the Pumpkins honed over a 10 year span. And this is as it should be. The reason that the Silversun Pickups sound like no one except themselves is because they’ve managed to coalesce the most immediate sounds of their early 90’s influences with their own California upbringing. If, God forbid, they drop that glossy Golden State shimmer and move to Chicago, then I’ll start to worry.

www.silversunpickups.com

Hangman’s Alphabet – Unbend the Shape

Boston-based rock trio Hangman’s Alphabet debut, Unbend the Shape, mixes prog-rock, post-punk and indie-rock with varying degrees of success. The resulting hybrid is an angular math-rock with complex and layered romps played with precision but without many hooky melodies.

The choppy songs are filled with crunchy, prog-rock riffing and tight, challenging instrumental passages executed with skill. But instead of using these jagged rhythms and irregular tempos to build up robust songs with clever outcomes, they fall flat.

Old-school prog would build up tension with tight and turbulent cadences and release it through bombastic refrains with catchy riffs and choruses with engaging vocals. Something Hangman’s Alphabet is wont to do. While Unbend the Shape builds up enough tension with sharp bass lines, pointed guitar riffs and blustery beats, the tension is never resolved. There are too many cuts and breaks and starts and stops and not enough melody. The non-descript vocals do nothing to involve the listener but neither are they a distraction.

The lack of studio enhancements ensures that every track retains the natural fervor and original ideas the band intended and allows the precision and dexterity of the players to provide the listeners with a multi-faceted, sonic ride; although at times an angular and abrupt one that is mostly one-dimensional without covering any new ground.

The disjointed guitar outbursts and frenetic segments are played with expertise and are never abrasive. But the songs sound too much like collages of sound fragments pasted together with seemingly no direction or flow and sometimes awkward transitions. Turn to the RIYLs if you want to hear some better, more appealing math-rock/indie-prog.

Recommended If You Like (RIYL): Oh Captain My Captain, 31 Knots and The Joggers

Hangman’s Alphabet: http://www.myspace.com/hangmansalphabet

Losing Blueprint Records: http://www.losingblueprint.com

Flipsides & Otherwise: FAO#17

A fellow enthusiast once advised this writer to “unplug the drip” of the music world in the wake of university years working in the student newspaper’s music section and upon the inaugural publication of a long-forgotten photocopied fanzine.  Maybe this friend was trying benevolently – albeit in vain – to stop another fanatic being tethered too tightly to the life-distorting circadian rhythms of record launches, gig schedules, meeting bands and the omnivorous consumption of related literature.  Ten years later – with innumerable reviews/features written for several outlets, way too many CDs, LPs and 45s blagged/bought, innumerable sweaty live shows attended – that advice still resonates enough to occasionally force a pause in the journalistic side of this scribe’s artistic interests.  The trouble is, even when taking a self-enforced sabbatical for a month or so, along comes a flood of things to crowd up the audio/visual field that find themselves in need of some near-pathological documentation.   Hence, another rather miscellaneous edition of this column, to mop up spillages from the drip that just keeps dripping…

One Event…

Record Store Day – April 18th 2009

As a clarion-meets-emergency call to the music collecting community to save the western world’s dwindling independent record boutiques from internet-instigated implosion, this year’s Record Store Day seemed from several angles to be a resounding success.  With a deluge of special shop-only physical releases, extensive mainstream media coverage, in-store live appearances and the wider inclusion of UK participants, RSD definitely seemed to re-connect a lot of people with the positive aspects of bohemian retail outlets and hopefully postponed the dissolution of some stricken small businesses.  For this thirty-something hoarding stalwart – forced to trek to Spillers Records in near-neighbouring Cardiff due to the virtual evisceration of autonomous CD/vinyl emporiums in Bristol – it was fun, if slightly stressful, to revisit more youthful days nervously hunting-out something new, weird or exciting before the next likeminded buyer got there first.  Nicer still, was feeling part of something that futurologists are prematurely consigning to the dustbin of history; the concept of buying a carefully-packaged aural artefact.  Moreover, it helped a little to assuage, if only temporarily, some of the ecological guilt of plastic and polycarbonate manufacturing as well as the increasing problems of domestic storage capacity.

RSD 2009 wasn’t flawless of course.  Message board posters have rightly pointed-out the key downsides of the event, mainly centred upon the availability of the specially-commissioned limited edition singles and albums.  There have been allegations of desperate and/or unscrupulous individual stores holding-back their stashes to sell on eBay or for personal collections, which partly defeated the object of the day with a whiff of cliquey and competitive elitism.  Many were just frustrated to discover that the ridiculously small pressings were thinly-stretched to sell-out before less-militant attendees had got out of bed.  Such relatively minor niggles will hopefully be ironed-out for future Record Store Days, by at least doubling or even tripling the quantity of some exclusives and possibly holding-back some stock for stores/bands/labels to sell mail-order a few weeks later, to limit the frustration of fans no longer able to reach a real live store and not willing to be stung on auction sites or be drawn to illegitimate downlifting.  If the traditional music industry is to survive into the next decade, then a balance must be struck between canny marketing schemes and averting the alienation of loyalists still willing and able to procure music in corporeal form; Record Store Day should be part of that process.  Perhaps making it a new pan-global public holiday would also be a good thing… we can but dream.

 

3 x 10″ slices…

Last Harbour – Saint Luminous Bride EP (Little Red Rabbit Records, 10″ vinyl/download)

Cheyenne Mize & Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy – Among The Gold (Karate Body Records, 10″ vinyl/download)

50 Foot Wave – Power + Light (CASH Music, 10″ vinyl/download)

As the original populist size of gramophone-orientated shellac records, there is always something quaintly alluring about ten inch records, even in their more durable modern day vinyl incarnations.  With greater warmth of sound than the cramped grooves of a 7″ but not as intimidating in their girth as 12 inchers, the 10″ is probably the best semi-antique format for EP-length collections, as these three freshly-chipped slates attest.

Manchester-based collective Last Harbour are well-overdue a return to wax – some nine years since their wonderfully crackly 7″ debut EP – and it evidently suits the murky gravitas of this new 4-song suite.  The stormy opening titular-track (plucked from last year’s Dead Fires & The Lonely Spark album) could be a disease-ravaged pirate ship shanty if it were co-written by The Gun Club’s late-Jeffrey Lee Pierce and Henry’s Dream-era Nick Cave; the elegiac “The Rifleman & The Bird” bathes itself the ship-wrecking shores of Crime & The City Solution’s Paradise Discotheque; “Brothers” gradually layers-up dizzying volume with funereal melodrama; and the bewitching baroque instrumental “Hewn” closes proceedings with a hint of gentile comforting.  With a gorgeous hand-printed sleeve in a limited run of 350 copies, this is a compulsory acquisition for the most discerning of Last Harbour followers.

Whilst Will Oldham’s no-longer-so-new Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy alias is increasingly leading him into disingenuous self-parody, he can still slip out more interesting low-key curios to ensure the devotion of his Palace-years faith-keepers.  This 6-track selection of vintage ballads from the pre-rock years of 1864-1914, recorded sparsely with Arnett Hollow’s Cheyenne Mize, is wonderfully old-timey but without prowling anywhere near to the dangerous tracks of novelty.  In fact, Among The Gold is so delightfully unpretentious that it puts much of Oldham’s over-egged latter-day repertoire in the dog house, so hunt it down before its resale value hits silly bullion-like prices.

So hyper-prolific has Kristin Hersh become through her brave ‘pay-what-you-like-or-not-at-all’ download-led CASH Music endeavour, that it’s a relief to find something being put out to hold in your hands, to help make some sense of it all.  But then the choice of 50 Foot Wave’s post-hardcore-rock-opera “Power + Light” isn’t necessarily going to assist in unclouding the waters.  Split into seven movements across 25+ minutes and two sides of grooved plastic, “Power + Light” isn’t for the faint-hearted, but that’s not to dismiss its dirty and disorienting magnificence.  With composite shades of all her past work with the Throwing Muses, 50 Foot Wave and as a soloist, along with respectful nods to Hüsker Dü’s Zen Arcade, this epic journey burns, scolds and occasionally soothes the soul.  With classic Hersh-penned motto-like lines such as “I’d rather be fucking than fighting” and “Grab me, grab your skeleton key and don’t forget to breathe” – that make perfect euphemistic but not literal sense – melding to a searing guitar/bass/drums-triangulating soundtrack with respite-giving cello interludes, “Power + Light” is something transcendental enough to be embraced as well as feared.

Two CD-EPs…

Superchunk – Leaves In The Gutter EP (Merge, CD/download)

Portal – Options EP (Make Mine Music, CD/download)

CD-EPs are now treated with more bemusement than their vinyl counterparts, but as we’ve seen/heard in previous issues of this column they remain a valid platform for short and highly-focused bursts of creativity.  Mac McCaughan seems acutely aware of this simple phenomenon with the currently-dormant Portastatic and the recently-revived Superchunk.  The latter’s long-awaited return with a 5-song studio set is heartily-welcomed to tie-in with Merge Record’s shared-twentieth birthday.  Frankly, you’re unlikely to find such redemptive old-school melodic-dissonance anywhere else this year.  From the loveable “Learned To Surf” and the post-punk magic of “Misfits & Mistakes” through the ragged blissful twists of “Screw It Up” and “Knock Knock Knock,” and on to closing acoustic reprise of “Learned To Surf,” Leaves In The Gutter is a treasure to be buried in 2009 that will long gleam underground.

The obvious attractions of the new collaborator-heavy Options EP from Make Mine Music label founder Scott Sinfield’s Portal outfit are inevitably the guest vocal appearances from Glen Johnson (Piano Magic, Future Conditional, Textile Ranch) and Angèle David-Guillou (Piano Magic, Klima) on two different bookending versions of the title-track.  But then how could Mahogany’s Lorraine Ellis and Epic 45’s Ben Holton (on the likeable but slightly forgettable “Slow Burner” “You’re Building Over My Childhood”, respectively) really match the twosome’s symbiotic super-powered melancholy?  Not a chance; because with bittersweet ’80s-slanted dark-electro, Johnson and David-Guillou have cornered the market.  The addition of peerless black-witted wordplay from Johnson’s pen secures the coup d’état even further on top of Sinfield’s burbling dreamy OMD-meets-New Order electro.  More than anything, you’ll be lusting in advance for the next Piano Magic album due later this later this year, which is no bad thing, even if it does subsume Sinfield’s own intriguing talents that warrant separate evaluation.

One new and nearly-missed album…

Jeffrey Lewis & The Junkyard – ‘Em Are I (Rough Trade Records, CD/vinyl/download)

Being somewhat of an anti-folk renaissance man, it’s easy to lose some concentration on Jeffrey Lewis’s core work amidst his comic books, on-line columns for the New York Times, literary events and 2007’s ingenious 12 Crass Songs covers project.  But then Lewis’s own multi-disciplined nonchalance does see him distracted from own songwriting to some degree, which is playfully apparent on this new self-composed collection.  Picking-up where 2005’s largely-great City & Eastern Songs long-player left-off, whilst bringing in the eclectic ethos of 12 Crass Songs and some wider worldly experiences (including a close brush with heartbreak), the obliquely-named ‘Em Are I is an endearing and often enjoyable mongrel of a record.  Bumping Pavement-style slacker-rock (“Slogans”) into rustic Violent Femmes-aping stomping  (“Whistle Past The Graveyard”) and rubbing plaintive cartoonish-existential balladry (“Bugs & Flowers” and “It’s Not Impossible”) against uplifting folk-pop sing-alongs (“Roll Bus Roll” and “Broken Broken Broken Heart”), the album is a happy distance from Lewis’s Moldy Peaches-shadowed beginnings.  Lyrically there are some mixed-blessings though; for every sharp couplet there is regularly a corresponding clunker.  But then Lewis makes no pretences about being Leonard Cohen, so it’s largely forgivable, especially when different aesthetic personalities on ‘Em Are I spring forth on each entertaining airing.

Some recent refreshing reading…

I Think I Hate My 45s (blog)

Anything But Silence (blog)

Whilst the blogosphere – to use a loathsome buzzword – is awash with both blatant pro-celebrity self-publicity and woeful amateurism, there are indeed islands of informative and imaginative relief to make it worth wading through the mire.  Two such music-related blogs deserve some particular commendations for entertaining and inspiring this scribe when other on-screen text tires the eyes as well as the brain.  The first is the intrepid I Think I Hate My 45s blog, which documents one self-confessed vinyl addict’s mission to review his way through thousands of owned-but-underplayed 7″ singles in strictly ‘A-Z’ order.  Through a combination of self-deprecating wit, encyclopaedic knowledge and affectionate yet biting satire, this is a road trip through home crate-digging that should roll and roll, well until it hits the roadblock of ‘Z’ that is.

Even better though, is undoubtedly the Anything But Silence blog from Glen Johnson (yes, him again).  Encompassing unique perspectives and musings on everything from the malfuncting mechanics of the music industry, personal heroes (Morrissey, New Order, Kraftwerk et al.), cassette-only labels, musical equipment, the joy of silence and long walks, the occasional downloadable sonic experiment with readers’ input… and so on.  Dripping with plangent passion, lacerating black comedy and invigorating intelligence, should Johnson ever quit the current day-job(s) there must be a brilliant book waiting to have his name on it.

Interview with Mark Kozelek

Delusions of Adequacy:  Hello Mark!  You have a new album, Lost Verses Live, coming out in early May that consists of songs recorded from the acoustic tours you did in 2007 and 2008 with guitarist Phil Carney.  How did you choose which tracks to include on this album out of all the live material you had recorded?  Were you going for the best technical sound or the most emotionally-compelling take of a song?

Mark Kozelek:  It was really a bit of both.  The tough part is that these are live, straight-to-CD recordings, so there’s no way to mix anything once it’s done.  It’s typical that the sound guy doesn’t record the first track, and doesn’t even get things adjusted until song 3 or 4, and then there are the songs that get cut off halfway through when the guy switches discs, so that wipes out that part.  It’s funny, we had thought we had recorded all of these shows in Australia, but all of the discs ended up blank – that happens sometimes, but you go through them, and sometimes the EQ throughout is terrible, the guitars and vocals aren’t balanced right, and the performances vary a lot from night to night.  I found that in the stuff I went through, each show had a few highlights, and that’s what I used.  A song like “Tonight In Bilbao” could sound strong at one show, but weak the next, there are just so many variables in live recordings.

DOA:  What guitar makes and models did you and Phil use while on those acoustic tours?  Do you use the same guitars that you record with when creating songs in the studio?

Mark:  No, I occasionally use my j-160 in the studio, but use it mainly for live.  I use vintage stuff in the studio, but don’t take it on the road.  Phil used a j-45 on the last few tours, but I don’t believe he did any recording with it.

DOA:  You’ve mentioned in previous interviews about how life on the road can take its toll and how it’s difficult for someone who hasn’t followed that path to know what it’s like and that the reward is to play the actual gig.  I’ve often wondered if singers/bands can survive, at least financially, without touring.  Do you feel that you could cut out the “playing live” aspect of being a musician and just put out studio albums, or is there an emotional, creative, and/or financial lure that drives you to go on tour?

Mark:  Well, yeah, playing live is very lucrative, there’s no doubt about it.  It’s the one thing that you still have to pay for to experience.  But I hope that my songs will continue to do well with licensing to television and film, as I’ll have to retire from touring someday.  Record stores and distributors are shutting down, so you know where that is headed.

DOA:  Continuing with the previous question’s line of thought, you’ve released many albums of live versions of your studio songs.  Do you prefer your live recordings to your original songs?  Some artists feel they can’t capture what they want in the studio and it’s only in the live environment that their songs reach their full potential.

Mark:  It’s true that there’s something happening live that you can’t capture in the studio – but what’s difficult is getting a nice, balanced, good-sounding live recording.  To me, live shows are exclusive to that audience, and that night, and just don’t translate well for multiple, after-the-experience listens.  That’s probably why, statistically, live records do terribly.  Most people are drawn to the polished studio album, it’s easier on the ears.

DOA:  Do you ever have the urge to compose a 3-minute pop song or does that format seem too restrictive and go against your grain? 

Mark:  It just doesn’t occur to me.

DOA:  Your lyrics are an indispensable part of your songs and they have been compiled in the book Nights of Passed Over, which was originally published in Portugal.  You now have an updated version available for purchase at Caldo Verde Records, your own record label.  Why was there such a limited release of this lyrics book at first? 

Mark:  I did the book because some Portuguese guys here hounded me about it for a while, so I did it.  But for various reasons, I didn’t like the way that situation turned out.  I wanted to release the book where I had some control over it, and where fans had easier access to it.

DOA:  Continuing with the lyrics theme, do you have any aspirations of becoming a writer in a different medium, like that of the novelist, or journalist, or blogger of minutiae (hmmm…or of import) on the Internet? 

Mark:  Never the blogs.  ”Here’s what I did today and here’s what I think about everything.”  I can think of 100 things I’d rather do with my time.  But maybe a book someday, I don’t know.

DOA:  What is it like to run Caldo Verde Records?  Do you handle all the day-to-day duties or do you have help?  What was the purpose of starting up your own record label? 

Mark:  The purpose was having control, doing whatever I want and not having to worry about a label going out of business, or dropping me, or whatever. I get help from my publicist, my web guy, my lawyer, my distributor.

DOA:  From what I understand, you’ve produced all of your albums, from the early days of Red House Painters to Sun Kil Moon to your solo work, and you also worked as producer on Alan Sparhawk’s (of Low) Retribution Gospel Choir album, which was released on Caldo Verde.   What does the job of producer entail and did it differ when working on someone else’s album?  Do you have any plans to produce other albums?

Mark:  I can’t imagine working with a producer.  Early on, 4AD put me in touch with a few, but they were guys that produced The Pixies or whatever, and just had no concept of what we were doing, or why we were doing it.  You know, “Why would you want to record 12-minute songs?” kind of thing. RHP was like the weird person that no one had the patience to deal with, so I dealt with it myself.  I like producing, and had fun working with Alan and a few others, but overall don’t have any desire to produce others’ music.

DOA:  Caldo Verde Records is named after a Portuguese dish and your lyrics book was first published in Portugal.  What are your ties to this country?

Mark:  Portugal is like a less coked-up version of Spain, more relaxed, intellectual, slower paced. No disco-dancing all night.  I like it there.  I do like the soup, and have a few friends there, but don’t feel any more or less tied to it than other countries.

DOA:  Speaking of geography, you grew up in Ohio and Atlanta, Georgia, and then moved to San Francisco and formed your first band, Red House Painters.  Your lyrics and song titles over the years are rife with locations like San Francisco, New Jersey, Bilbao in Spain, Kentucky, L.A., and so many more.  Have you traveled to, or lived in all of the places that you’ve written about?  Are there any areas in the world that you haven’t been to yet that you really want to visit?

Mark:  I’ve semi-lived in other places. I’ve spent some time in Sweden, Spain, New Orleans, lived in Virginia for a while, and a few other places.  I don’t know. There are some places I’d like to see, but I get back from these tours and the last thing I want to do is go sit around an airport.  For the most part, I’m content with all that I have seen, and am happiest when I’m home, here in San Francisco – no car, no planes, none of that.

DOA:  Since I live in New Jersey, I have to ask if your emotionally-poignant song “Moorestown” refers to Moorestown, NJ, and if so, what is your connection to the town?  Do you feel that you are naturally a wanderer who feels restless if stuck in one location, or has the moving to different areas been foisted on you by the need to tour? 

Mark:  Yes, Moorestown, New Jersey. My ex-girlfriend is from there, who I’m still close with.  If it wasn’t for my work, I never would have traveled so much. But I’m grateful for it.  It’s kept me busy, given me a living, and I’ve met a lot of amazing people.

DOA:  Moving to Red House Painters for a moment, how come there are two versions of “Mistress”, where one has a faster pace with fuller production and the other is sparer with slow piano refrain?  Why that song and not others?

Mark:  Well, not true. There are a few versions of “Shock Me” and “The Light”.  Sometimes I do a few different versions – like “Salvador Sanchez” and “Pancho Villa” – both the same song but very different moods.  It’s not uncommon for me to record a few versions, to really explore the song.

DOA:  What was the impetus for your triumphantly downbeat cover of “The Star-Spangled Banner”?  Who sang on backing female vocals?  You really made it your own.  I wish they’d sing your version in baseball stadiums!

Mark:  That was me singing the female backing vocals.

DOA:  Take Me Home: A Tribute to John Denver features you and Rachel Goswell (of Slowdive and Mojave 3) on the song “Around and Around”.  What was it like working with her?  Were you in a studio together or were you sending tracks over the Internet? 

Mark:  She’s my friend but I sent it to her through the mail. She’s in England.

DOA:  My favorite cover song of yours is “Trucker’s Atlas” by Modest Mouse.  I think it’s the highlight of your Tiny Cities cover album.  It could be a lost Sun Kil Moon track, a rambling, rolling, traveling song, figuratively and literally, with stream-like strummed guitar and you in gorgeous vocal form.  Did you ever get a response from Issac Brock and company about you covering their album?

Mark:  No, they never responded.

DOA:  You composed the score for a 2001 indie film called Last Ball.  What was the experience like to work on a film score?

Mark:  I like doing the score stuff, but have had no luck with it.  I have a feel for it, but it’s not my niche, so I don’t get asked to do it a lot.

DOA:  What is the significance of the artwork for your Ghosts of the Great Highway album?

Mark:  Nothing behind it.  It’s a photo I found at my friend’s grandmother’s house in Tennessee.  She gave me permission to use it.  I remember my friend telling his friends “Mark’s gonna use this photo for his next album cover.”  And his friends said, “Yeah, right.”  But it did have a ghostly feel, so I used it.

DOA:  Lastly, what would your dream job be if you were not a musician?

Mark:  Therapist.

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