So, I decided to take the afternoon off. Summer session at the college where I work just ended, and it wasn’t likely that there would be any reference questions — my presence was essentially rendered unnecessary, or so I convinced myself. When I got home, the latest issue of Magnet greeted me. With the house to myself, and the central air cranked (it’s like 100 degrees out there), I put on some old Swirlies albums and did some reading…
Today was a good day.
This album, which I am only just now getting around to listening to, is another instance (and, there seems to be many these days) where I don’t quite get all the hype. Last year, Silversun Pickups quickly became the critics’ new indie darlings, and eventually landed on more than one “best of ‘06″ lists. But, I don’t get it! They are just another Mid-Western band that’s way too influenced by the Smashing Pumpkins. Seriously! I can do without all the melodramatic whining; and if I want to experience some warm and fuzzy aural dreamscape, I’ll put on MBV or Slowdive. Smashing Pumpkins had very little to offer fifteen years ago, and this iteration of their sound has even less.
I’m through with reading reviews!
In honor of the hype machine, I present to you yet another list: The Five All-Time Over-Rated Bands/Musicians:
Okay, let’s dispense with the nostalgia. Back to the present. The 90s have been over for some time now…
So, I must admit that my interest in Bodies of Water was piqued after seeing a photograph of Meredeth Metcalf, the band’s organ-playing singer, on the Gorilla vs. Bear blog. “Surely, her music must be as stunning as her looks,” I thought to myself. I have used this rationale previously: gorgeous singer = gorgeous music. Superficial? Yes. Illogical? Not necessarily. Usually, it works out. Sometimes, it doesn’t. With BoW, it does: mellifluous vocals and lush, occasionally shambolic instrumentation. It’s a near perfect amalgamation of the sweetness of Beach Boys harmonies and the grandiosity of Arcade Fire, with some not so subtle gospel undertones. Good stuff.
But as I mentioned above, easy on the eyes doesn’t always mean easy on the ears. Here’s my list of five beautiful present-day female musicians who make music I don’t care much for:
Regressive … it is perhaps the most appropriate adjective to describe my musical tastes these days. Yesterday, I was listening to Bunnygrunt; today, the Spinanes. Sure, the new National album is really good — I listened to nothing but it for three days straight earlier this month. And, yes, I wait patiently for the new New Pornographers record to come out in a few weeks. But, my god, I do miss the mid-1990s!
Remember when Simple Machines and Teenbeat ruled the indie galaxy? Of course, you cannot forget Merge, K Recs, Slumberland, Kill Rock Stars and the dozens of other basement operations that long have been forgotten. Back then, indie meant something. It was more than a hackneyed term tossed around by critics to denote music that evinces a modicum of artistic merit. Sadly, this is no longer the case. Do a Google search for the word “indie.” 62,800,000 results!!! This is more than twice the number of results for a search for “Obama” (a keyword that I selected at random). In an attempt to make things less frustrating for the user, Google recommends that the former search be narrowed by “indie clothes” “indie jeans” or “emo.” Such a dilution of culture is unfortunate.
So, as a tribute to the mid-1990s indie scene, I present my ten favorite albums released between January1993 and December 1995:
Honorable mention: Lois – Strumpet; Softies — It’s Love; The Spinanes — Strand; Tsunami — Deep End; The Crabs — Jackpot; Fugazi — In on the Kill Taker
Disclaimer: There are definitely some important records missing here…
Over-precious saccharine pop, perfect for a bleary-eyed Monday morning commute…
A little over a month ago, we put our house on the market. One of the immediate recommendations of our Realtor was to get rid of all the clutter — an attempt to make our modest home seem more capacious. By “clutter,” she specifically meant the thousands of cds and hundreds of records that littered the dining and living rooms. So, for what seems like an eternity now, our immense music collection has languished in a dank self-storage unit a few miles down the road. I was, however, able to randomly stash some albums in the car, in the closet and in the pantry. And surely, the 20 gigabytes of music on my hard drive can’t be perceived as clutter.
I downloaded Little Pop Rock some time ago, but I never got around to listening to it, until today. Suddenly, I really miss my Mobile Safari record. I now feel I never fully appreciated Psychocandy. Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely love the innocence and fragility of this album. While Sister Vanilla is certainly no JAMC or Pastels — although, two-thirds of this group are JAMC alums, and there is a duet with Stephen Pastel — this album is indeed a pleasant substitute for the duration our house sits on the market. And, it is the perfect soundtrack for the torrid August nights that lie ahead.
Some mornings, I can be so god damn indecisive. I will stand before an open dresser drawer for almost ten minutes, dithering over which pair of underwear to wear. Each pair is more or less the same, just a different color. Does color really matter, if I am the only one who will see them? Probably not. But, for some reason, I am invariably paralyzed by my irresolution. Usually, this indecision follows me to the car. I can’t get more than thirty seconds into a cd before fickleness sets in. Out comes the cd, in goes another. And so, this process repeats for the next fifteen miles, until I finally settle on something. Today was different. Sure, I still had trouble selecting the right pair of undies. But instead of listening to thirty seconds snippets of seven different albums, I resolved myself to continue to listen to what I was listening to yesterday.
Today was a warm, bright summer day; perfect for blasting some pop music with the windows rolled down (sounds cliched, I know). I recently made a summery mix tape (well, actually cd — it’s just that “mix cd” never sounded right) for a friend’s birthday. I liked it so much, I had to make a copy for myself. Usually, my mix tapes are better suited for sweater weather. This one’s full of winsome pop songs that make an excellent soundtrack for days like today.
1. Halloween – matt pond pa
2. Song Against Sex – Neutral Milk Hotel
3. Another Sunny Day – Belle and Sebastian
4. Monday Morning – The Charade
5. Fraud in the 90s – Mates of State
6. Lloyd, I’m Ready to be Heartbroken – Camera Obscura
7. Wishes for Kisses – The Rosebuds
8. Disconnect the Dot – of Montreal
9. The Chills – Peter Bjorn and John
10. The Laws Have Changed – New Pornographers
11. Asleep on a Sunbeam – Belle and Sebastian
12. Penny and Jack – The Essex Green
13. Alcohol – Saturday Looks Good to Me
14. Summer Babe (Winter Version) – Pavement
15. Noisy Night – Portastatic
16. Waterloo Sunset – The Kinks
17. A Call to Apathy – The Shins
18. Sad, Sad Day – Tullycraft
19. Best Days – The Softies
20. Indian Summer – Beat Happening
I absolutely love SLGTM. When I recently learned that I didn’t get my dream job in Ann Arbor, I found consolation in the fact that SLGTM had moved out of the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest — sure, the job was impetus enough for me to move back to the Midwest, but I dreamed of bumping into Fred Thomas in Encore Records or at some house show. The winsome pop of SLGTM actually makes me want to dance — and we all know well that indie kids are seldom moved to dance. SLGTM are like Motown for the indie set.
SLGTM’s move from Michigan to Portland is not just a spatial one. As evidenced on Cold Color, an e.p. released in anticipation of the band’s K Records debut later this year, there is also a move away from the Motown Sound. Cold Color, is …. well, kinda cold — perhaps, “subtle” is a better adjective. The music is stark, the vocals are often hushed, found sounds and disembodied voices weave in and out, guitars drone. It is downright haunting at times.
Different…but good, really good.
I want to like Rufus — I REALLY do! I also want to like the Pixies and Magnetic Fields. But all I can say about the latter is, “69 Love Songs is ironic novelty music; I don’t get what all the fuss is about.” I know I SHOULD like Rufus, and the Pixies, and Magnetic Fields — or, so I’m told. But, I don’t. I tried to enjoy Release the Stars – I REALLY did try. But, I didn’t. Like most everything else I’ve heard from Rufus, this album seems a bit too affected. “Nobody’s Off the Hook” is a good enough song — I’m a sucker for strings. And, any album that opens by asking, “Do I disappoint you?” would seem well-suited for a sad-sack such as me. But, for some reason, Rufus does absolutely nothing for me.
