Monday, January 28, 2013

1/28/13

"It's 16 miles 
To the promised land 
And I promise you 
I'm doin' the best I can" 



Oh, I miss you, Rilo Kiley, what with your fantastic auxiliary choices and early acoustic strumming patterns, and literary lyrical qualities that somehow defy all potential pretension. So much to love about this particular song, with the group vocals and xylophone and the straight up, put-up-or-shut-up call to action. I wonder what it would feel like to write an honest song again, but I do not think I know how. I'm pretty sure I only did once (it was pretty cool, though,another post for another day).

It's mind-boggling, really, how I can recognize honesty almost everywhere around me, in what I see and hear and read and observe, but am still relatively incapable of finding it in myself. It had to have been there once, I remember figuring it out. Like in my grandparents' living room during the overheard conversations about the shortfalls of my relatives, conversations where a little me served as audience, a third-party listener hearing the playbook of what I must do to live a successful life. And then, during heart-to-hearts in dance class, I learned to put words to what I wanted, sitting on the cold church floor picking at runs in pink tights, anxious and awkward-limbed while digging for ways to describe what it was I danced for...surely I knew what it was to be honest with myself then?

Maybe it's mid 20s-existentialism or maybe I'm just letting haters get the best of me, but some days I wake up with an unshakable guilt, like any second the proverbial "they" will bust down my door to tell me to get out of this life, that "they" were wrong and that there's someone in line who has her shit much more together than I who deserves this chance.

One thing I can be honest about though: Dreams are better shared. That is, at least, a comfort.

"And some days,
They last longer than others
But this day by the lake went too fast
And if you want me, you better speak up,
I won't wait
So you better move fast"
~With Arms Outstretched
Rilo Kiley, The Execution of All Things 

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

1/23/13

Woke up the other day wanting to listen to Jack's Mannequin. Went with it.

This is a really good album, definitely think we'll be able to point this in decades to come as one that defines a time, a generation, a scene. I don't know why I forgot about it relatively quickly after it was released (definitely was a SoCo fan throughout HS). I was certainly reminded of it often though, lots of Facebook status updates from pop culture know-it-alls and many a mention of a tour date at some big outdoor or college venue back upstate. They've never seem to have gone away, though I don't think the follow-up LP made as much of a splash (honestly, I haven't heard it).

Jack's Mannequin following branched out from indie and pop punk scenes into something much more mainstream, opening a lot of doors for what we're hearing now. This song in particular we may want to label as, perhaps, too cliche, but isn't that the very thing that will be able to bring you right back? Something so entirely authentically *then* that you can be transported back there *now*? It's not easy to capture that, and it's even harder to do so with enough subtlety that people will buy it and feel cool with it. So, props to Andrew MacMahon, you can write a hell of a song, and the world took notice.



"I read your letter,
he one you left when you broke into my house
Retracing every step you made
And you said you meant it
And there's a piece of me in every single
Second of every single day
But if it's true then tell me how it got this way


Where are you now?
As I'm swimming through the stereo
I'm writing you a symphony of sound
Where are you now?
As I rearrange the songs again
This mix could burn a hole in anyone
But it was you I was thinking of"

~The Mixed Tape
Jack's Mannequin, Everything in Transit

Sunday, January 13, 2013

1/13/13



"The bar lights and the liquor
And the way all the bottles, they shine

Well I got five more dollars, drink another

You'll feel fine
You'll feel fine
You'll feel fine

The bar lights, and the women
The empty pool hall, and you and I

Well I got five more dollars, drink another
You'll feel fine
You'll feel fine
You'll feel fine

Write your name down on a matchbook sleeve
Call me up on Sunday for a drink
Call me up on Sunday, call me anything

The bar lights and the liquor
The way all the bottles, they shine

Well I've got five more dollars, t
hat wont make you mine
That won't make you mine
That won't make you mine"

~Bar Lights
Whiskeytown, Demo/Pneumonia


I've been obsessed with Whiskeytown's "Pneumonia" lately, after buying the CD for $4 at the used record store on Park Ave back home. This song immediately struck me (though this is a demo version, in the LP the guitar melody is done on violin), it plays in my head on repeat. Just a perfect sad little ode to the meaningful moments mixed in the ordinary down-on-luck scenes.

It reminds me a lot of those summer nights at the Pickering, that dingy place with its good people and cheap tequila shots, perfect for lusting across the plywood tables. Every Thursday was open mic, and every Thursday was a party, sometimes followed by round two at the cottage down in Vine Valley. There, I had no cell service and it felt like 1969, an endless haze of debauchery and music and crickets serenading through the screened-off windows. Those were good times, those were much-needed to snap myself out of my head, but it was all so fleeting - everyone's moved away and Thursday nights at the Pub are now trivia contests, from what I've heard.

Of course, my favorite memories to shake out of that summer are the ones that only went so far, the ones that were only meant to exist in a time and place suspended from the rest of my reality (despite pathetic efforts). There's a certain sadness for love that's lost and gone untapped, when you know it could've been even more of a ride if only circumstances were a little more forgiving, but it's not much worth much to dwell on. It happened, in its own way, even if it was just for a moment or two under the right lights.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

1/9/13



"I don't wanna be your maybe 
Baby, let me drive you crazy 
I wanna be your dandelion 
Don't you go leave me stranded 
I'm empty, I'm not second-handed 
If you give me a little time, 
I wanna be your dandelion"
~Dandelion
The Damnwells, One Last Century

Since 2001, The Damnwells have produced a fine, fine collection of LPs with lots of alt-country, indie rock songs that are quite opposite of what a lot of other bands have cut in the same time. They're that band that most fans would probably say - "Why aren't they more popular????" because the radio-friendly factor is undeniably high.

Their sound is entirely tried-and-true (think Goo Goo Dolls), but executed so fully and smoothly that there's tons of satisfying elements. Bright electric solos, steady and oh-so-familiar acoustic chord progressions, careful piano melodies or a female vocal harmony here and there. Production is entirely lined up to support the vocal, with the bass way low and guitar melodies up front. At their lyrical core, these are songs for the lost and lonely-hearted. They are sad songs about lost and far-away love, with weather metaphors and dramatic references to hearts and blood and bruises.

Given all this, The Damnwells sound pretty conventional, compared to the fitful rushes from hardcore and electropop genres we've seen at the front lines. This is radio rock of the 90s cut during the laptop-DJ aughts, suggesting that the fan base bands like to reach (young concert goers who bite at whatever's trending) may not buy in.  So, who's buying it? The silver lining here is the Internet always seems to have answers: Their last two records were released rather unconventionally, one as a digital download through Paste magazine and the other through crowdsourced fundraising on PledgeMusic. Now, The Damnwells seem to have found a base in fans of the likes of The Replacements, Whiskeytown, and The Gaslight Anthem.

Personally, I've found there is something really unpretentious about these songs that is completely comforting and lovely and also somewhat fascinating. Alex Dezen has a simple way with simple words, and an unyielding devotion to meter that makes for perfectly symmetrical verses, so not a syllable is out of place, whether in and out of rhyme. Unpretentious, but certainly not amateur. Some may say this type of lyric writing lacks creativity - but unless you've ever spent a night or two counting syllables to fit a melody, you can't really judge the craft accurately because it is not always as easy as it the ear makes it sound.

Says something about songwriting, I think, that formula mastery is in and of itself a sub-category of the whole craft. You can break all the rules and do something completely different to change the game, or insert enough unconventional sounds and techniques to be interesting enough to set trends. Or, like The Damnwells, maybe you can find success by coloring inside the lines so clean and crisp that the really original thing about it isn't any gimmick but the parts that come from you - and at the end of the day, that's all we really create anything for, anyway.



"Is there something you've been waiting for
for a long time?
A stupid game where you've been keeping
score in your mind?

You write the books in your head,
I'll keep the last days instead.
Can you calculate an even cure,
And a crime?

So you come around, a
nd we all slow down,
So you come around, I tried to wear you out
With my newborn history, a faithless eulogy,
And if I can't keep you down, no one will.

I have seen the bones beneath the stare
of your eyes,
Have you traded in the yellow hair 
for cheap smiles?

Call you another doctor,
This one seems to think you're just fine,
I have tasted all your sympathy,
And I don't care.


So you come around, and we all slow down,
So you come around, and I tried to wear you out,
With my newborn history, a faithless eulogy
And if I can't keep you down, no one will.


So you come around, and we all slow down
So you come around, and I tried to wear you out."
~Newborn History
The Damnwells, Bastards of the Beat







I imagine I'll learn a lot



Sunday, January 6, 2013

1/6/13

Am I the only person in the world who wishes The Decemberists would plug something in again? That riff is so fly. Why does the Wiki not have a gear list. Disappointed in you, Internet.

Inclined to say "Her Majesty" is my favorite Decemberists album, but "Castaways and Cutouts," "Hazards of Love" got me into the band first. I'm glad they've stuck around and continued making great songs, they were onto something way before it happened, and it has since become something else entirely. On the must-see list, I think.



"But I," said the bachelor to the bride
"Am not waiting for tonight.
No, I will box your ears
And take your tears
And leave you, leave you here
Stripped bare."

~The Bachelor and the Bride
The Decemberists, Her Majesty

Saturday, January 5, 2013

1/5/13

So I'd seen many mentions of the Newsweek cover, and images of it. Thought it could be nice to have, interesting to read. I bought it a couple days after Christmas, at the nice Barnes and Noble in Pittsford, it was in the front and not in the magazine section. When I picked it up, first thing I read:

"Visually they are a nightmare ... Musically they are a near-disaster ... Their lyrics (punctuated by nutty shouts of 'yeah, yeah, yeah!') are a catastrophe."
-"George, Paul, Ringo, and John," Feb. 24 1964

Historical. Would love to read that whole story.

Bought new speakers today. Same as the old ones, only they were half the cost of what they were when I bought them in what must've been '09. Many wires, might have to save up for wireless ones. But until that happens, man, I forgot how fucking terrible laptop speakers are, I'd gotten so used to them. Sounds! LOW END! Sweetsweetsweet.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

1/1/13

Well.

I'm a little late on this one.

I wanted to sit down and write about my favorite albums of 2012, the music that came out, crossed my path and meant something to me for any combination of reasons.

I wanted to talk about how there were songs that reminded me how wonderful it is to be young and alive even though it's messy and mean, like Japandroids and The Menzingers. And how there were songs that blasted the cracks in my heart with deadly aim, and others that caulked in the gaps, like those from The Gaslight Anthem and Lovedrug.

I wanted to do this yesterday. But time got the best of me, and here we are, 2013 with no "Favorite Albums of 2012" on the blog. Let's proceed.

Normally people order and rank these things; I have done this in the past and found it to be useful, clean and a fun reference for discussion purposes should the topic ever arise. My rationale for placing an album on this list could come from many places: Did I hear it, and love it instantly? Was I drawn to replay it in full one more time, or are there tracks that I simply couldn't get enough of? And why? Was it the meaning, the message, the technique, or the timing?

I've also decided to highlight other albums that caught my ears for being very successful records in one way or another, because 2012 was a damn fine year for new music from artists both familiar and burgeoning. Here's a whole bunch of proof:

10) mewithoutyou - Ten Stories
Kicking off the list, an old favorite band out with a new, thematic collection that's eerie and haunting and potentially their most polished, meticulously produced effort yet.  Details pop out at every new listen, a harmony or a guitar part or an elusive, mysterious phrase. So enchanting, how could you not want to get lost in the night inside an otherwordly tale?

"All circles presuppose they'll end where they begin/But only in their leaving can they ever come back around"

Posts from the Year: 7/15/12

9) Passion Pit - Gossamer
Ya heard. Electropop made it on my favorites list. But I've never liked electropop this much before, I've never seen the weirdness and depth this way. Played it all the time, even got my mom hooked on it. I found this album uplifting and entirely thoughtful, bright and shiny but ever calm, ever cool and just enough collected. I hear the  live shows are slammin'. Also: Gossamer is, and has been, one of my favorite all-time words.Shimmers just like it should, a perfect title.

"When then I'll say what they say/And I'll do what they do/But it doesn't mean a goddamned thing"

8) Lord Huron - Lonesome Dreams
Oh how perfect and beautiful this album is, how folksy. Though it seems acoustic and auxiliary-heavy Americana bands are a stone's throw from every dive bar in mid-sized cities to the hottest clubs frequented by trendy, hipster-inclined urbanites, Lord Huron is, to my ears, the real deal. Kick back, relax and let their lonesome dreams interrupt and intersect with yours for awhile. And take a walk in the fucking woods while you're at it.

"I've been dreaming again of a lonesome road/Where I'm lost and I've got no friends/Just the rocks and the trees and my lonesome dreams and a road that'll never end"

Posts from the Year: 12/12/12

7) Bad Books - II
Perhaps I am inclined to rank anything involving the likes of Andy Hull and Kevin Devine, given my listening roots grew up in their respective heydays. And yet I have never appreciated them as much musically as I do today. Maybe it's in the maturity, the sardonic tone, or the willingness to try on styles and sounds exemplifying a mastery of creative convention. Bad Books colors in the lines, but this is by no means a dig on lack of originality. Rather, we've got layers and layers of complimenting and contrasting rock 'n' roll theory. More, please.

"Folded arms and I felt your heart hum/Speedy eyes and I want what I want/Truth cut with a generalized fear/Cash baggies and an ash tray beers/I know you know/I wanna love you but I can't let go/Honey, it never stops/No it never stops"

6) Alabama Shakes - Boys and Girls
How did you not just instantly love this band? Rootsy and bluesy and fusion-y and all kinds of familiar, Alabama Shakes debuted with a powerful hello to an indie pop audience that was ready to lap up something designed to comfort the soul. We've got real instruments, real vocal talent like we haven't heard in some time, real skilled players, and a whole lot of heart. Between the dynamics, the passion and the style, Alabama Shakes has serious rock chops, and I'd bet strong that we've only seen the start.

"I feel so homesick/Where's my home/Where I belong/Where I was born/I was told to go/Where the wind would blow/And it blows away"

(Bonus Link: Listen to this full KEXP performance!) Seriously. Do it. Your face might melt, though.

5) fun. - Some Nights
Yes, I know I've said The Format is better (and first!) but what a record this was. Everyone seemed to love it, everyone related to it. At the tail end of 2012, I found myself replaying this album over and over. Great for drives, for thinking alone. Nate Ruess is a genius at capturing the mischief in melancholy, the hope in the view from the ground, and I am grateful he continues to make wonderful music to share with the world.

"My head is on fire/But my legs are fine/After all they are mine"

Posts from the Year: 8/14/12

4) Lovedrug - Wild Blood
Redemption comes in many forms. Lovedrug's first full-length after a run of successful EP releases left me feeling full and happy, and intrigued by the new direction of a band. Focus, melody, depth and layers were always strong currents, but these qualities are the crux of Wild Blood's impressive, hungry and ever-onward spirit. Glad this record was made, because it marks something of an end of an era for me -- a triumphant effort from a band I've followed for years in a year that, for me, showed similar feats.

"We were owls when they came in the night/they were lookin' for a creature to fight/I can see it that you're ready to go/Like a bat in the cave of my soul"

Posts from the Year: 2/10/123/6/123/13/12,  4/15/126/15/12

3) The Menzingers - On the Impossible Past
Sometimes, people kind of laugh a little when I tell them I'm a pop punk/hardcore/whatever the fuck you call emo these days fan. A bit of an eyeroll. But The Menzingers are amphetamine laced proof that the genre isn't dead and Epitaph is a fighting beast of a label(so shut your fucking trap). Heart-wrenching and boldly embracing pathetic helplessness and hopeless, this album is a collection of odes to self-fulfilled failures past and present. As I am a codified expert on such instances in my own life, it was entirely too easy to relate. Coated in familiar chords and fast-finger solos and just the right amount of scream, I listened to this at my worst only to end up feeling pretty damn close to my best.

"I will fuck this up/I fucking know it"

Posts from the Year: 8/22/12, 8/27/12

2) The Gaslight Anthem - Handwritten
What to say that I haven't said? Do I have a bigger music idol of 2012 than Brian Fallon?  Not really, maybe, probably not. "Handwritten" proves that TGA will continue to churn out confessional narratives with amphitheater-sized proportions. They've proven to be true to their own style, a dash of the past included, so the end product is good, old-fashioned, new rock and roll.  And this album could've been a make or break moment after so many past successes. No doubt it was a daunting task to say, "Oh shit, gotta write more great songs." And yet, I am more of a fan than ever.

"And we waited for sirens that never come/And we only write by the moon, every word handwritten/And to ease the loss of youth and how many years I've missed you/Pages plead forgiveness, every word handwritten"

Posts from the Year: 4/30/127/16/127/19/127/31/129/13/1210/9/1212/5/12

1) Japandroids - Celebration Rock
Japandroids just got it just right. They got the hunger right, the anger and fury, the passion, and the inescapable needs and conflicts of living fast. They've captured a certain brazen slyness that once thrived all over punk and rock scenes that's shrunken to give way to pretension, a forced literariness that can be so guarded. Not necessarily a bad thing, but not really a good one either, if you're looking for something to rock out to.

If you told me that 2012 would be the year that it turned out to be for me personally, I probably wouldn't have believed you. Or, maybe I would've of, but immediately passed out from fright, thereby changing said future through butterfly effect means. So, the present is fleeting, the past is permanent and the future, a wide scary unknown. In this lost haze, Japandroids brought a reminder that all you have is you and now, and fast is fun when your eyes are open.

Musically, omigod, so cool. Not only was I completely blown away by the sheer sonic power of such a tiny band (two skinny white dudes!), but you don't hear guitars played in this way, so full of repetitive fierceness, in ways that are simultaneously melodic. This has a lot to do with the chord choices, and phrasing of vocal, but we've got some real metal technique doing some indie rock things.

So thanks, Japandroids, for making me remember so much of what I love about loud and fierce rock music, and for laying it all out so honestly, that there's no way I will ever be able to hear these songs, and not connect to the moments, people and places of 2012. What more do you want out of an album of the year?

"It's a lifeless life with no fixed address to give/But you're not mine to die for anymore/So I must live"

Posts from the Year: 6/2/126/18/12

Special Awards:
Best EPs: The 1975 - Sex EP, The 1975 - Facedown EP

Best Genre-Bending, The Cool Award: Frank Ocean - Channel Orange

Most Ambitious, Most Likely to Make Me Dance Contemporary Ballet, Most Poetic Album Title: Fiona Apple - The Idler Wheel is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do

Best "Comeback:"  Soundgarden - King Animal

Best Collaborative: GOOD Music - Cruel Summer

Best Taylor Swift: Taylor Swift - Red

Best Album for a Love Scene in Outer Space: The xx - Coexist

Best Metal (TIE): Converge - All We Love We Leave Behind, Every Time I Die - Ex-Lives