Free Beer and Noise Pop

I met Janet Weiss yesterday. I think her husband was there too, you know, the other half of the amazing Quasi. I didn’t say hi to him, but almost embarrassed myself gloating over Weiss. She’s awesome. I think Quasi’s in town for Noise Pop, but I couldn’t find them listed anywhere. Anyway, Noise pop promises to be great this year. If you are lucky enough to have a ticket for tonight’s sold out Magnetic Fields show, I envy you.

I hear there’s free beer available thanks to Diesel. Check the details below:

Say Hi : The Wishes and the Glitch by Lee Henderson

One of my favorite images of all time is a Shel Silverstein sketch of a man playing a guitar that is also his own face and torso. A guitarotaur, if you will. The cover of Say Hi (formerly Say Hi To Your Mom) ’s fifth album, The Wishes and the Glitch, reminds me in a fleeting way of the Silverstein sketch, for it is an illustration of a boxy robot (three boxy robots, actually) opening up its own quadrilateral chest outward, like a refrigerator door, exposing what’s inside.

Say Hi is, according to both the website and “Wishes’” liner notes, “a boy named Eric” Elbogen. Eric lives and records in Seattle, and is, ostensibly, the whole band (there are some ancillary background singers), playing all the “guitar, bass, synthesizer, and drum machines. . .  encapsulated on this compact disc, vinyl long player or digital collection.”*  
  
Right away I’m somewhat skeptical, as my personal tastes tend to gravitate less toward the laptop and more toward . . . well, not new country music, and not the laptop–though I don’t mean to conflate the two.  But the opening strains of “Northwestern Girls,” the first track on “Wishes,” does much to assuage my worry–there’s an immediacy in those two-and-a-half minutes that grabbed me and pulled me in. The following tracks “Shakes Her Shoulders” and “Toil and Trouble” continue piquing my interest, especially “Toil,” which I can really see delivering live, given of course that it’s performed loud enough. There’s a nice balance of what I’ll call, for lack of a better term, organic tension in the song, and the lyric “sometimes the slow simmers to a boil” contained within — well, syllogistic isn’t exactly the right word, but let’s just say that the line delivers on its promise.
   
Unfortunately, the wheels more or less come off the wagon for me after that. “Back Before We Were Brittle,” “Oboes Bleat and Triangles Trink,” and “Magic Beans and Truth Machines” are tracks that, for me, don’t really go anywhere but sideways and in circles. And at this point it should be noted that, while I’m sure he hates the comparison, “Wishes” is more than just a little (Postal Service) “Give Up”- esque and Elbogen’s singing voice is, again, more than a little similar to the nerdy romanticism of Ben Gibbard’s**.  But Say Hi is no Postal Service, and these three songs prove it.   
   
“Bluetime” and “Spiders” get us back on track somewhat, but the damage has been done (though “Spiders” does contain the best line of the album: “thereís the thing with her father, the thing with me broken, her new jealous ex and the press”).  And while there is good imagery like this throughout the album, such lyricism ultimately doesn’t make up for the lack of dynamism or cogency — for the overall lukewarm songwriting — that I feel typifies it. 

This is cemented with the last three songs, “Zero to Love,” “Apples For the Innocent,” and “We Lost the Albatross,” songs which all deal with themes of either obtaining or “need(ing) something new.” On the whole I would recommend to Mr. Elbogen to capitalize on what works on this album — the first three songs, specifically — and jettison the rest.  In other words, a third of what he’s got works.  The other two-thirds need something.  

Additionally, I would simply warn him of the risk he takes when opening up, in general, and exposing the elements inside, their inner-working. . .  I would warn him to think twice next time about the robot on the cover of his record.  For when the robot opens up, it reveals itself to be hollow, its contents nothing but cold air.  I donít think Mr. Elbogen wants his art suffering the same criticism.           

*That Elbogen is Say Hi’s only decision-maker has lent him the space and freedom to employ some personal touches (like this one) in the album’s layout that I didn’t like, and some that I did: specifically that, though only symbolically, it is broken up into a side A and a side B, a la a throwback vinyl record. I wish more artists, when tracking their albums, would factor in this variable.     

**And Conor Oberst’s, for that matter.  And mine. But, Senator, I am no Jack Kennedy, and I digress.   

Words by Lee

Ringo Starr : Liverpool 8 by Jory John

I’ll admit this here & now: Every time a former Beatle releases a new album, I’m hopeful, ready to give every benefit of every doubt. And this is true: I got teary eyed, once, when I was reading a review of a then-new Paul McCartney CD that received high praise. I couldn’t believe it, especially when the reviewer wrote that the new songs stood up to Paul’s output on “Revolver.” Yes! “Revolver”! Dang! Then I went and bought a copy and the first lines of the first song were “One, two, three, four, five/Let’s go for a drive.” Not exactly a revolutionary debut and the album — “Driving Rain” — remained lackluster and uninspired, throughout.

And I know that this isn’t meant to be a McCartney review, but I think it’s generally an apt comparison, because Paul and Ringo have had a tendency to share the same problem: They both try too hard in that overproduced, electric-guitar-and-synth, forced-rhyme sort of way. Quit rhyming so damn much, Paul and Ringo! All those songs you keep pumping out would stand up better. Over the last few years, I’ve sincerely wanted to sit these post-Beatles down and say, “Listen up, you two … I want both of you to focus on your strengths. OK? Paul, for you, it’s your melodies, acoustic ballads and knack at storytelling. For you, Ringo, it’s your drumming and dry sense of humor. And while we’re at it, why don’t you give George’s final album, ‘Brainwashed’ another couple of listens. George went back to writing beautiful, stripped down songs with harmonies that people rightfully compared to ‘Abbey Road.’ Think about it.”

With all that said, I’m actually pleased to report that there are some good things about “Liverpool 8″: 1.) For a Ringo album, it’s not bad at all. 2.) That is, it grows on you with a few listens, even if the music has an occasional tendency to blend into one long ramble. 3.) And the song “Give It a Try” sneaks up and approaches Ringo’s best work and it’s definitely one that I’d add to a playlist if I created a mix entitled “Songs Written By Former Beatles That Are Actually Good and Worth a Listen.” Granted, this is all relative and you know what you’re getting into when you see the name Ringo Starr on the cover. Because let’s be honest: Nobody ever really looked to the Fourth Beatle for his song-writing prowess and the fact that he just released a generally pleasant, nostalgic, fairly well-sung album may be the closest we come to a celebrated post-Beatles offering this year.

Ring Starr : Liverpool 8

Check out Jory’s Bigstonehead

SMILE with Neil on Valentines

As you probably already know, Valentine’s Day is a holiday celebrated on February 14. In North America, it is the traditional day on which lovers express their love for each other by sending cards, presenting flowers, or offering confectionery. Named after two among the numerous Early Christian martyrs named Valentine, the day became associated with romantic love in the circle of Geoffrey Chaucer in the High Middle Ages, when the tradition of courtly love flourished. The first recorded association of Valentine’s Day with romantic love is in /Parlement of Foules /(1382) by Chaucer:

              /For this was on seynt Volantynys day/
              /Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese/ [choose] /his
              make/ [mate].

Wow! He’s supposed to be such a great poet, and yet he can’t even spell. Shocking …

Well, anyway, you are probably aware that in some North American elementary schools,students are encouraged to give a Valentine card or small gift to everyone in the class. The greeting cards of these students often mention what they appreciate about each other. Now, this is no elementary school, and I don’t expect everyone of you to bring me a Valentine, but it would be appreciated if certain select people would consider doing so, and you know who you are… Married and unavailable ladies need not fear that I will take it the wrong way!

In any case, I hope you will not let this daunting prospect hold you back from attending another fantastic night of fun and frivolity at Ye Olde Knockoute. Just see what I have lined up for your listening pleasure:

11pm – The Moore Brothers – Thomas and Gregory by name, they are no strangers to SMiLE! attendees. Truly, sweeter songbirds are rare to come by in any era, and local appearances by this pair are equally rare ever since they’ve relocated up North. So be sure to catch them while you can!
http://www.myspace.com/themoorebros

10:15pm – Dreamdate – What a delightful surprise when I discovered there was such a band as Dreamdate! Yea-ming, Anna, and Elbert produce a delightfully tuneful clatter that’ll have you dreaming up some wonders.
http://www.myspace.com/dreamdater

9:30pm – Them Hills – The Moores are bringing up some friends of theirs from Nevada City. Never having met, seen, nor heard them in person, I can’t speak from experience. But they seem just delightful and wear funny glasses. What more could you ask for?
http://www.myspace.com/themhills

The place is at 3223 Mission near 29th and the cost is a mere $5.

I look forward to seeing you!

Best wishes,
Neil Martinson

Valentines Day Bummer by Avery Monsen & Jory John

It’s February in San Francisco and it seems like everybody has somebody. The sun came out yesterday for the first time in weeks and love-struck assholes from every walk of life flooded the streets. There was kissing in the on the sidewalks. There was hand-holding in the corner store. There was what looked coitus in the park. Yuck. Public coitus is the absolute worst.

“Public coitus is the absolute worst,” I said to no one in particular, although “no one” included everyone in the 10-items-or-less line at Safeway. “Hallmark must be responsible for this.”

I kept walking. Things were turning ugly. Heavy petting, heavier petting, heaviest petting. Everywhere I looked, cheese-balls were asking other cheese-balls for their cheesy hand in marriage.

“You complete me,” some jerk said, to some she-jerk.

“You had me at ‘hello,’” some tool said, to some she-tool.

But I don’t think I’m alone, here. I can’t be. There must be other people out there who are sick of this Valentine’s fever. People who have a hunch — like I do — that those little “Be Mine” candy hearts are actually just chalk. People that know that flowers die and chocolate will just make you fat. We’re the Lonely Majority (coined!), and we’re not going to take it anymore.

The Whigs : Mission Control by Lee Henderson

Full disclosure:  I am a former, and slightly fanatical, Athens, GA resident.  As such, January was a great month for me in terms of new music. Athens’ finest the  Drive- By Truckers’ latest opus “Brighter Than Creation’s Dark” does not disappoint,  and neither does Chan Marshall’s (Cat Power) latest, “Jukebox” (that Chan is technically a native of Atlanta, really got her start in New York City, and now lives in Miami does not phase me).

Athens’ residents The Whigs‘ second release, “Mission Control,” (also issued in  January) is yet another such record.  While the album may play it a little safe at times, what I like about it is that it doesn’t pretend to be anything other than it is: straightforward rock n’ roll.  And who, at the end of the day, doesn’t enjoy straightforward rock n’ roll*?  People I don’t like, that’s who. You know who you are**. The album announces itself confidently with the opening track “Like A Vibration.” Immediately one notices the unmistakable similarity between singer Parker Gispert’s voice and that of Dave Grohl’s–a similarity that helps personify both what is great about the album and what is not so great about it.  On the one hand, both Grohl and Gispert have cool rock n’ roll voicesóstrong, spiky, and distinguished.  On the other,  that both singers sound so alikeóand, ergo, the Whigs sound similar to the Foo Fightersóthat overall the album is nothing new.

Which, as I’ve said before, doesn’t mean it’s not a good album.  I may teasingly refer to Ben Bridwell from Band of Horses as “Jim James Mercer,” but that doesn’t mean  I’ve been able to stop listening to “Cease to Begin” for the last couple of months. The second track “Production City” starts off with a staccato “Orange Crush” kind of thing before settling in to a groove that makes me think:  this is what Minutemen might sound like had they made it to the 21st century. Of course, “Production City” is longer than a minute and a half and has a melodic chorus.  But the scratchy guitar work is reminiscent of the late D. Boon, and the bass playing of Mike Watt.  Listen for it. Similarly, “Sleep Sunshine” begins with a riff and a theme that vaguely reminds me of Radiohead’s “Wolf At The Door” before channeling the Athens instrumental combo Japancakes’ warm pedal steel sound.  Neither influence seems too overt or gratuitous–in fact “Sleep Sunshine” is one of the most mature and best songs on the album.  It, more than any other song on the record, shows off drummer Julian Dorio’s talents, and Iím sure the song is a highlight live.

Another highlight live, I’m sure, is “Already Young.” Probably the most commercial song on “Mission Control,” I can totally hear it on the radio or see it on a Starbucks sampler. The chorus is melodic and infectious, and, and thereís no better way to say thisóit feels good.      

So does “I Got Ideas,” the best and most mature song on the album.  It’s promising to see them add extra instrumentation (horns in the chorus) and I hope they continue down this path with future recordings.  

No matter what path they’re on, I hope it leads to the Independent or the Rickshaw Stop soon–I am really looking forward to checking these guys out live. I am really looking forward to hearing them play “I Never Want To Go Home.” I can’t wait to soak up the irony of singing along to the “I donít want to go home again” chorus, knowing I would go home again, if only to have dinner at Farm 255, a drink at the Mercury Lounge, and then to have my hand stamped at the Caledonia or the 40 Watt for a Whigs’ show.
 
Words by Lee
 
*(Besides my parents.)
 
**It suddenly occurs to me that I feel compelled to steer this review towards a histrionic
rant about hipsters who eschew anything mainstream in the interest of fashion. I don’t
want to marginalize the Whigs by doing that.  So this passive- aggressive parenthetical is
going to have to do. 

The Whigs : Right Hand On My Heart

Evan Greenwald’s look at ‘07 and more free tunes by FJP

I’ve been quite lucky to have so much help from great writers like Farhad J. Parsa, Evan Greenwald, Jory John, and John Hell. No longer is 4F a space for one person’s look at the current world of music, but instead, it’s a true collaboration.

I’ve set up a separate page for Mr. Greenwald’s epic list of his favorite music, musicians, and songs from 2007. Here’s just an excerpt:

Album of the Year:

Neon Bible
By The Arcade Fire

I
don’t know why I’ve been denying it all year–maybe because I didn’t
want to give all the awards to the same band–but the truth is: I love
this album. Especially after giving it a year to grow on me. Even songs
that feel boring at first (“Neon Bible,” “Ocean of Noise,” “Windowsill”)
have eventually grown on me, and on some occasions have even become my
favorites on the album, of only for a day or two. The real power in
Neon Bible is the way that Arcade Fire have mastered their sonic
oxymoron. For example, on their first and classic album, Funeral,
inspired by nine deaths in the families of the seven members of the
group, you’ll feel joyous. Listen to the Springsteen-meets-Bjork anthem “Haiti,” about escaping from the country of the same name, complete
with angry soldiers and dieing cousins, and keep yourself from dancing.
At that point in the career, they might as well have capitalized the
FUN in FUNeral. Now, listen to “Intervention,” the moody church organ
centerpiece of the album about salvation of the religious variety, and
keep the Kleenex nearby.

The sonic changes in Neon Bible from
Funeral are significant, but the power each song has not lessened in
any way. And where some songs are sad and beautiful, the best songs
you’ll hear are the dancier ones like the American Spirit of “(Antichrist Television Blues)” or the contagiously catchy “Keep the
Car Running” (which even the Foo Fighters have been known to cover
recently).

First came the Funeral, then came the Bible. Now we’ve got to believe. Itís easier than you might think.

AND . . .

More tunes fished out of the web by FJP:

• Sebadoh : On Fire
• The Microphones : Ice
• LCD Soundsystem : Daft Punk is Playing At My House (Soulwax Shibuya Re-Remix)
• The Futureheads : Let’s Dance (Bowie Cover)
• The Organ : Brother
• The Occasion : All Over Idaho
• Heatmiser (Elliott Smith) : Plainclothes Man (acoustic)
• The Polyphonic Spree : Lithium (Nirvana Cover)
• Sunset Rubdown : The Mending of the Gown

The ultimate guide to music for people in need of a root canal, by FJP

• 764-Hero : Terrified of Flight
• Bad Brains : Big Takeover
• sadsadfun : Ever Loving Light (the old version…it’s downloadable now)
• Spoon : Revenge!
• Spoon : Underdog
• CSS : Art Bitch
• CSS : Knife (Grizzly Bear Cover)
• Fiery Trees: Scorpio
• The Organ: Brother
• Pavement: Silence Kit
• Soft Machine : Instant Pussy
• Portishead : Strangers
• Portishead : Sour Times
• Portishead : Wandering Star
• Polar Bear Club
• Lastly check out the music of SQE

By FJP

Kingsbury: THE GREAT COMPROMISE by Evan Greenwald

There is little room for Kingsbury to be happy, apparently.  They’re melancholy of sometimes the best quality, like the Smashing-Pumpkins-meets-a-sad-version-of-the-Violent-Femmes of their album’s opener, “Corpse,” with the heavy church bells and the distorted humming guitar, the climactic gloom of “Buried Beneath the Trees,” or the heavy, sped-up march of “Blood In the Kitchen.” And sometimes it’s just really, really bizarre, like in “Desert Inn”.

But you have to give Kingsbury credit. Most bands who try out the dreary vocal style drown faster than their lyrics say they want to be.  But here the dreariness is all apart of a bigger picture. It’s not whiny enough to be emo and it’s not hardcore enough to be goth, it’s just generally dark, and it sounds pretty good that way.

Now, Dreary doesn’t mean quiet, like it is usually assumed to mean, and “Peninsula” helps back me up. It’s loud and dark at the same time.

See, the fun of Kingsbury is that it’s seriously dark. Not dark to be funny or dark because the band thinks it’ll make them more popular, but because it’s how they are.  And sometimes being yourself means being depressing. Doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to enjoy the sound of suffering, does it?

Key Tracks: Corpse, Blood In the Kitchen, Peninsula

Kingsbury on Myspace

Animal Collective: STRAWBERRY JAM by Evan Greenwald

Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but really, this is a musical achievement. A band has actually combined the weird-noise beep-boop-bopping of Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, the jolly dance of the circus, and, but only sometimes, the brainless insane screech of the screemo genre into one compact nine-song album.
 
Imagine you’ve got yourself a fifty-five-minute, twenty-eight-second long caffeine rush that just happens to sound great too, and there you go. Animal Collective.
 
Some of it actually doesn’t sound good at all (the mumbling drone of “1″), but when it works, it’s a miracle. Easily the best song, “Peacebone,” though lacking in the insanity, is one of the most brilliant songs I’ve heard all year. From the jumpy bass line, the sugar rush synthesizers, and the ridiculously good lyrics (“I was a jugular vein in a juggler’s girl/I was supposedly leaking the most interesting colors”), that still retain poetic brilliance even after your realize that none of them make any sense at all.
 
“For Reverend Green” is the song where the Collective start, and stop, screaming. If begins and a jolly pop tune with distorted loops playing underneath Avey Tare’s singsong microphonage. But, almost at random times it switches to the full-throttle screech, the alt-metal wail that not only is unexpected, but is also very good sounding.
 
Sometimes the revolution comes from places we didn’t expect it to come from. What Animal Collective have done doesn’t exactly sound consistently good, but it is unfailingly original, and occasionally it’s brilliant.
 
Key Tracks: Peacebone, For Reverend Green, Winter Wonder Land

Animal Collective : Fireworks