“when i hear the word culture, that’s when i reach for my revolver“, or so goes the poorly translated quote often misatttributed to nazi leader hermann göring or even joseph goebbels. in actual fact it was a line from schlageter, a play staged on hitler’s birthday on the year the nazi party gained power, centered on the life of nazi matyr albert leo schlageter, whose wartime comrade friedrich thiemann ranted on his disillusionment with all the ideological babble on brotherhood, equality, freedom, beauty and dignity, before uttering those iconic words. that jaded sentiment prevails in the mission of burma 1981 classic “that’s when i reach for my revolver”, which speaks of past heroes and discarded dreams, and the formerly cherished restraint and boundaries that must now be crossed, a rousing call to arms against the things of this world that deaden our minds and souls. it’s amazing how much reverence is accorded to this song in subsequent covers by moby and graham coxon, both stepping up with passion and resolve, and in chilling resonance with each other in reporting for duty.
the straits of gibraltar is the narrowest of waters that separates africa from europe, and while the proposed tunnel bridging the two continents won’t be realized till much later, two acts that have been making the most waves these days give us a glimpse into what that intercontinental trip could look like. the first is the very best, a collaboration between malawian musician esau mwamwaya and london outfit radioclit, which had already whet our appetites last year with their promo mixtape that sampled everyone from vampire weekend to m.i.a. and even michael jackson. i can’t wait to check out their upcoming debut album, especially after hearing “the warm heart of africa”, a song off that album of the same name featuring ezra koenig from vampire weekend. it’s a collaboration that captures the best energies from both parties, brimming with joyous celebration.
that figurative trip across the straits is also attempted by jj, the latest-signed band from sweden’s sincerely yours, home of the equally breezy air france. “from africa to málaga” appears to bear much less of the african influence, although the lightly hopping beats wouldn’t be out of place in a lazy afternoon reggae jam. as the title suggests, this song is more about the trip than the destination, and while i can’t quite tell where the spanish city of málaga features here, the uplifting currents of scandinavian dance-pop are more than assuring of how worthwhile this journey is, offering the perfect way to wind down after dancing through the warm heart of africa.
i declare today diamond day. while i was away, b mailed me “i am not a robot” by marina and the diamonds, a song that sounds as organic as its words imply, with its generous layer of strings in what builds up to be a truly ebullient chorus. it reminded me of lavender diamond’s “you broke my heart”, which features an equally uplifting performance in glorious baroque splendor. that in turn reminded me of vashti bunyan’s “diamond day”, the simple opener from the belated 1970 classic just another diamond day which i’m sure played some part in influencing both musicians. have a sparkling diamond day, everyone.
i’m really behind in my film viewing, but last night i finally got about to watching michel gondry’s be kind rewind. although it’s gotten rather mixed reviews from critics, i absolutely loved the show, especially with its take on “sweding” in taking swipes at today’s media industry’s paranoia at copyrights and bootlegging, and of course some signature gondry scenes which were magical as always. the onscreen partnership between jack black and mos def is hilariously endearing (and sometimes annoying) in their efforts to “swede” or remake the films that black’s character jerry erased (“you’re magnetized!” being my favorite mos line, delivered in exasperated horror – check out 0:30 of the trailer). the show also got me listening to mos def’s rap catalogue, particularly his black star collaboration with talib kweli, and right now i can’t wait for his upcoming album the ecstatic to be released. just for you, though, i have a delicious preview with “auditorium”, taken off that album and produced by madlib, whose instrumental from his beat konductor funk tribute to indian music is gloriously sampled here. wicked.
stream: (mp3 removed on label request, even though i received it as a free download from an contemporary label)
(update: looks like the label’s really going all out to block anything that’s coming out these days. read all about it here. i’m sure that’s doing your artists a whole lot of good. how ironic considering my comments on be kind rewind)
in a space of three short years, the staggering output of deerhunter and its affiliate acts has thoroughly infiltrated the fragmented psyche of indie music (if such a category makes any sense at all). 2007 was the year most of us got our first glimpse of the band with its post-shoegaze cryptograms album and the impressive follow-up fluorescent grey ep, which boasted a title track invoking the rotting corpse of david baker’s mercury rev. showing no sign of slowing down, 2008 saw the consolidation of the hegemonic grip of the band, which started the year with bradford cox’s solo project atlas sound, and ended it in style with the devastatingly beatitiful couplet microcastle/weird era cont.
this year, we already have two related releases to contend with, lockett pundt’s solo effort lotus plaza, and the band’s recent ep rainwater cassette exchange. the former’s the floodlight collective already has the makings of a classic as it reaches towards the outer limits of both ends of the dreampop spectrum, with album centerpiece “what grows” representing just about every possibility of such a project. rainwater cassette exchange is no less adventurous, as evident in the opening title track with its deceivingly naive holiday-themed melody blending surprisingly well with the song’s garage inclinations. it’s only may, but i can’t wait for what else the band’s got to offer for the rest of the year.
how do you translate sound to words and how may those words be recoded back in terms of sound? what gets lost in the process? in what way is one’s interpretation of music accurately translated into a literal, textual form, and how is that eventually decoded by its reader who then tries to picture (as if it’s now a visual thing!) how the music sounds like and whether it’s worth checking out? these are questions every music writer faces, as his or her writing stands in gulf between the musician and the audience. it’s an intriguing chain of interpretation and reinterpretation, a process made even more complicated if you replace the music reader/listener at the end of the line with another musician.
a post-lunch conversation on time led to a mention of the talking heads‘ song “once in a lifetime”, which subsequently prompted me to give my old remain in light (1980) album a relisten. while much of that record is rightly known for its polyrhythmic structure and its pioneering work in bringing a world music vibe to the post-punk movement, the last song “the overload” was conceived as an interpretation of what joy division might have sounded like. none of the members of the band had ever heard the work of joy division, but attempted this song solely based on what they had read in the press on what their music sounded like. i’m sure words like cold, distant and atmospheric must have been most recurrent, judging from the song’s deliberate break from the exotic grooves of the rest of the album.
the result is uncanny: “the overload” loses the band’s distinctive compactness in favor of an ambience spread thin over its 5 minutes, with david byrne’s vocals inheriting an eerily distant ian curtis drone, reminiscent of deathly ballads like “candidate” from unknown pleasures (1979) or “eternal” from closer (1980). if anything, though, talking heads attempts this mimicry far too well in reconstructing perfectly the structure and form of joy division while paying little attention to its heart and soul. the darkly metallic overtones of “candidate”, for instance, is but a mask painted in response to curtis’ state of alienation and his singular cry of despair: i tried to get to you. and recorded closer to curtis’ eventual suicide, “eternal” sounds a lot more at peace with its own self-destruction with the deadpan delivery of its final two lines: no words could explain, no actions determine/ just watching the trees and the leaves as they fall.
but who could blame talking heads for neglecting all these nuances in their interpretation of a band they’ve never even heard before? and what right had they to even step into the territory of ian curtis’ bared soul, which underlay each joy division song? indeed, “the overload” never attempted to fulfill the latter; yet, it still succeeds not simply on the grounds of successfully sounding like joy division (which is itself a laudable achievement considering the circumstances), but in the critique presented therein. particularly, “the overload” lays bare the futility and meaninglessness of genre formation, an issue that is especially striking today with the overload of bands emulating and pigeonholing themselves in the new-wave, post-punk joy division sound, capturing all the form but containing none of its substance, which can never be replicated.
the issue of musical influence of course still remains, and i’m sure both talking heads and joy division have their fair share of influences worth dissecting and comparing. but let’s leave that for another article.
i can’t speak french. i can’t even do a proper french accent but i stubbornly persist all the same, often to disastrous effect. bands like nous non plus, however, perfect the art of faux play: the new york band performs convincingly as a french pop outfit, putting together a pastiche of 60s french influences that balance neatly with the edginess of modern american indie rock. with the tellingly titled album ménagerie, the songs (mostly bearing french names) bounce with nervous energy, playfully mimicking and deliberately exoticizing everything french without taking itself too seriously. one of my favorites is the english titled “thief like me”, a song that starts off with much symphonic grandeur only to reveal a frantic underbelly. surprisingly, everything comes together seamlessly as an elegant hipster anthem whose only flaw is its perplexingly abrupt end. in a strange way, the infectious urgency of this track reminds me of tv on the radio’s similarly titled, full-blooded stomper “wolf like me”, which i’m sure needs no introduction.
black lips have a rather notorious reputation for their onstage antics, most recently incurring the wrath of indian authorities during their concert in chennai. in “starting over”, taken off their new album 200 million thousand released just yesterday, the band makes certain promises to change for the better, but when it’s delivered with the sloppiest of drawls, you know that it’s just a drunken promise to stay sober. the song itself is a curious animal, beginning with a nostalgic dreampop jangle and chugging along with a call-and-response garage harmony that invokes the black and white charm of the velvet underground’s “there she goes again”. everything about it is imperfect, and that’s exactly how things should stay.
i’m such an old fart. i woke up this morning, and thought about the new albums i’d finally get about to listening this weekend, but something else guided my hand towards my old elf power album from almost a decade ago. in the aftermath of the blazing trail of e6 contemporaries olivia tremor control, neutral milk hotel and apples in stereo, all reveling in the bombasticity of their three-word band names and the arguable peaks of their respective careers, the relatively understated elf power released a dream in sound. it was an album influenced in equal parts by the pop genius of the beatles, the saccharine harmonies of the beach boys, and the lyrical wit of the kinks. in short, it was a fantastic pop record, rivaling the other e6 pop masterpieces like tone soul evolution and dusk at cubist castle. this morning, listening to songs like “high atop the silver branches” and “jane” brought back memories from way back, sounding just as sweet as when i first heard them.
it all started this afternoon when i caught lou humming beirut’s “postcards from italy”. this was when audrey took the chance to introduce us both to alaska in winter, promising it to sound like beirut, except better. that sure got me interested, and as i found out, the project was one that revolved round one man – brendon bethancourt – with some help from other musicians, the most notable being mr beirut himself zach condon and heather trost from a hawk and a hacksaw. the song audrey let me listen to was “your red dress”, a track taken off his 2007 debut album dance party in the balkans featuring condon on the trumpet. the project and album titles are pretty self-explanatory: yes, this was recorded one winter in alaska, and yes, the music consists of typical balkan fare with beats. however, you really do have to listen to the music itself to experience the breezy charm of this track. thanks again audrey!
last july, i first introduced new york band the pains of being pure at heart and i still remember my excitement at listening to their “everything with you” single, which i eventually included in my best songs of the year list. today, their self titled debut album is finally out, and i’m pleased to announce it has lived up fully to the hype surrounding its release. the album kicks off with “contender”, on an immediate note that seems to suggest you’re entering into this record mid-way. this is perhaps in acknowledgment of its derivative sound, which sits comfortably amidst the hazy jangles of indiepop forebears like the jamc. however, the emphasis of this record isn’t originality or novelty; instead, its strength lies in the actualization of the band’s name (which the band tellingly refuses to abbreviate) into a musical ethos that further propels the movement of indiepop today. with the pains of being pure at heart, the band aims for the stars, but also recognizes the obstacles that come in the way, in doing so providing one of the most compelling reasons yet on why pop and noise should go together.
since we got started on the topic/theme/genre of soul, i thought it might be a good idea to dwell a little longer on it. what is soul and how do you get it? one group that attempted to answer that question, or to at least present a practicing definition of it was the quartet from cleveland, ohio – s.o.u.l. (sounds of unity and love) with their song (yes, you guessed it), “soul”, a song notably sampled by dj shadow in “midnight in a perfect world”. as vocalist lee lovett spins his tale of meeting a man who’s gained the whole word but just can’t pinpoint what he’s missing in life, gus hawkins’ flute theme takes a life of its own, circling around that man and buzzing in his ear like a fly that just won’t go away. but it’s in the second part of the song where the action really is, when the band gives up playing games a delivers the punchline: you’ve gotta have soul! it’s as simple as that, really.
i was listening to lil wayne’s “dontgetit” a few days ago when i was struck by the nina simone sample that featured so distinctly. while it was used as a deliberate foil for his commentary on racial prejudice, simone’s original touches on a more universal theme of human fallenness. it’s not so much a cry but a plead for acceptance (i’m just a soul whose intentions are good/ oh lord please don’t let me be misunderstood), and one that’s drawn out repeatedly in agony and anguish, but never in exasperation. the song never seems to make any headway through its entire duration, with simone’s questions remaining rhetorical and never resolved. and yet, although her efforts appear to be in vain, one is won over by the sheer persistence of her requests and the vulnerabilty of her soul laid bare.
swedish duo the sound of arrows, signed not too long ago by our favorite labrador records, seems to have a prolific year ahead of them. following last year’s danger! e.p., this year will see the release of their m.a.g.i.c. e.p. (next week) and their debut full length puzzles and wonders in march. listening to the danger/m.a.g.i.c. pairing gives one a glimpse into the contrasted worlds of stefan storm and oscar gullstrand, a former house producer and orchestra musician respectively. the synthetic feel of their exuberant sound is reminiscent of the pet shop boys, especially with the slightly nasal vocals, but the more you listen to these songs, the more you’ll find traces of life lingering quietly behind the big beats and loops.
just attended a second christmas party in a row last night at b’s (after a sumptuous feast at a’s), and it was a lovely night with friends old and new, with conversations drifting uncontrollably to the topic of getting older, as much as the thought of it thoroughly mortified us all. i could almost hear james murphy’s deadpan monologue from “all my friends” sung in my face, bringing to mind the years that have gone by, and all the friends that have been there along the way, several of whom i don’t meet anymore. what would it be like to meet all of them again? i think about the decisions i’ve made through those years, and again i find myself concurring with murphy: i wouldn’t trade one stupid decision, for another five years of lies. and then i remember why this lcd soundsystem track was my favorite song of last year: not so much that it was prescriptive or prophetic about my life (you spend the first five years trying to get with the plan, and the next five years trying to get with your friends again), but that it constantly brought me back to reality, forcing me to take stock of my life and then to move on beyond that recognition to the new things i need to figure out.
dan
i love music, but i can't play it for the life of me, so i might as well try writing instead. hope you like it. i'm from singapore, where there really is good music if you look hard enough. i'd love to hear from you (yes, you): theskinnyfists@yahoo.com.sg
brian
I'm a four stringing minstrel of doom, and hired gun for the odd band or two. Few things excite me more than music, and whiskey soaked vocals are a definite plus, so please be sure to send some my way. When I'm not contributing to I'm Waking Up To and MAP, you should follow my misadventures at http://litford.wordpress.com And yes! I'd love to hear from you too: litford@gmail.com
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is tonight the paralyzed mind of the archangel void. 1 week ago
they’re waking up to…
jamie stewart from xiu xiu:
i have a nico button on my guitar strap and her excess eyeliner has been burning the dirge "janitor of lunacy" into my waking ears as of late, at least 20 times in the last week. until yesterday we have been on tour in scandinavia, russia, poland, austria, germany and czech. these grey locations held hands with her harmonium perfectly.
mp3: nico - janitor of lunacy
justin ringle from horse feathers:
i have been obsessively listening and waking up to this tune by gillian welch called "annabelle". it's a song about a sharecropper in alabama and it is so sad, beautiful and timeless that I can't help but listen more than once in a row. the harmonies in the chorus make my hairs stand up... beautiful song.
mp3: gillian welch - annabelle
tracyanne campbell from camera obscura:
my favourite song at the moment is called 'one in a million' by steve miller. it's really beautiful. his voice is like honey in the sun and it totally melts my heart. the lyrics are quite simple and i guess
corny but it's a great tune and the production is so good it really doesn't matter. i wish i'd written it. in fact i'd love to do a cover version of it. i was recently in stockholm visiting my friend victoria (bergsman) from taken by trees and we were singing it in the flat and talked about recording it. watch this space...
mp3: steve miller band - one in a million
stuart murdoch from belle and sebastian:
every day when i leave the house and walk over the iron bridge and up to the glasshouses, i listen to “what for” by james. i have a habit of dropping back 20 years in my thoughts, and having a parallel soundtrack running in my head so that i may be walking in a street in 2008, but my head is in 1988. i don’t know why that is. this is an up and hopeful song of the period from a band i used to care for deeply.
as we slip into the autumn here, i am prepared to let my new song of obsession become “the game” by echo and the bunnymen.
“everybody’s got their own good reason why their favourite season is their favourite season”.
mp3: james - what for mp3: echo and the bunnymen - the game
alison eales from butcher boy:
“I'm waking up to Labi Siffre, and wondering how I managed to stay asleep for so long. His songs are diverse, unpretentious, and performed with tangible joy. I'm literally waking up to him as well - I have 'It Must Be Love' set as my alarm, and it is proving to be a very nutritious musical breakfast.”
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