Music That's Getting Me Through: "Sickle/Hammer" by Spirits

Maybe I'm betraying my latent socialist sympathies, but I'm so glad that my friend Tom Powers turned me on to "Sickle/Hammer" by Spirits. The track opens with an acoustic guitar line that reminds me of Guster. After four measures, though, the song is pure eighties power pop. I'm thinking XTC meets Crowded House with some gorgeous backing vocals a la the Beautiful South? Some nice, fat synths in there, too. And listen for a wonderful lyrical sentiment at around the two-minute mark: "Harvest the moon. The darkness will digest the light." Good advice for how I'm feeling at the moment.

The track is a pay-what-you want deal, but come on... Throw a dollar their way! If you like it, buy it!

Why I Write "If You Like It, Buy It"

If you've read any of my music reviews, you've probably noticed that I tend to end by saying "If you like it, buy it." A friend of mine recently said that this sounds a little glib, or like I'm trying to tell people what to do and how to spend their money. To an extent, I suppose my friend is right. But the main thing I'm trying to do is to remind anyone who reads my blog that musicians are people who put a lot of time, effort, and, yes, money into recording songs. Sure, we do it because we love making music. In fact, a lot of us have day jobs that help pay for our musical habits, and very few of us expect to make a fortune selling our music, but I think it's important to let artists we like know that we appreciate what they're doing. It's the online equivalent of dropping a dollar (or more!) in a tip jar.

Personally, I'm always flattered when I get a message stating that someone just paid for one of my songs, and I know that other musicians probably feel the same way. It means we've connected with a listener -- and that our music was more than just something playing in the background while they were busy doing something else. So when I end each post with "If you like it, buy it," I mean just that: If you hear a song that you like, show the artist that you appreciate what they've done and drop a dollar or two in their virtual tip jar. You just might make someone's day!

"What Was I Gonna Do With The Rest Of My Life" by Scot Sax

Hard to believe it's Halloween already! I originally wanted to post something with a spooky theme, but it's Monday, and I needed to hear something upbeat to get me going. Thank goodness, then, for "What Was I Gonna Do With The Rest of My Life" by Scot Sax. It has a strong, rocking beat and a live feel, and Scot's falsetto singing reminds me of Prince. And, to be honest, there's something spooky and haunting about the track. Minor chords in the verses, maybe? The doubling of the vocals on the chorus? The cool fuzztone on the lead guitar? Or maybe it's the song's attention to the ghosts of paths not taken in life? In any case, it's a great tune for Halloween or any day of the year...

"What Was I Gonna Do With The Rest Of My Life" is available for $1 (US) at BandCamp. If you like it, buy it.


And check out this ad for Scot's new CD, Grooved Pavement...

Weekend Music: When We Collide by Baker Man

The six tracks on Baker Man's When We Collide drift between the rough-hewn indie pop of early REM and the grinding garage punk of Dinosaur Jr. I also hear hints of the Decemberists and Ben Folds, particularly in the lead vocal of songwriter Mike Five on the album's opening and closing tracks ("What Tradition Means" and "Keeping Score"). The latter of these is a shimmering six-and-a-half minute opus that's equal parts dreamscape and early misty-morning hangover. Production on the album isn't slick -- nor is it meant to be -- but it's organic and has the feel of a live performance. These are the guys you saw performing in your buddy's basement or your favorite dive bar in college. Smart lyrics, jangly guitars, and a healthy dose of world-weary cynicism.

When We Collide is available on a sliding scale for $1 to $10 (you decide) on BandCamp. If you like it, buy it.

Morning Music: "Dust" by Jude McGee and the Soft Touch

After hearing "No Word from China" by pel mel a little while back, I found out that the band's singer, Jude McGee, has been working on a new project with her band the Soft Touch. Her album The Household Guide to Heartbreak has a polished, adult contemporary feel (as does her re-imagining of "No Word from China" (a free download definitely worth checking out)) that calls to mind The Beautiful South and Brandi Disterheft's 2009 album Second Side. Kicking off The Household Guide to Heartbreak, "Dust" opens with a charming flamenco guitar riff and a whistled melody straight out of an Enrico Morricone movie, and when a surf guitar joins the spare arrangement, the picture is complete: this is a song of loss and loneliness, but also a song of survival. McGee's haunting vocal floats through the track like the ghost of a shattered relationship, and there's a kind of creepy subtle electronic scratching noise that skitters through the song like a rat pawing through a long-abandoned home.

"Dust" is available for $1 (AUD) on BandCamp, and The Household Guide to Heartbreak is available for $10. If you like it, buy it.

Morning Music: "Head & Heart" by From Apes To Angels

Trippy, shimmering synths and a crunchy backbeat give "Head & Heart" a vibe reminiscent of the the Cure, and the lead vocals recalls Jeanette Landray's singing on the Glove's 1983 Blue Sunshine album. As with both Robert Smith projects, there's something dark and brooding lying in wait beneath the surface of this and other tracks by From Apes To Angels. On the surface, the song is about love, but the lyrics betray something else. Obsession, maybe? Jealousy? Hubris? A hint of rage? Whatever the case, "Head & Heart" is a deceptively twinkling tune with hidden, murky, even sinister depths.

From Apes to Angels are currently working on their debut EP. To help them out, download one of their singles at BandCamp and pay what you want...

Lovin' This Track: "Funky Cola" by Block35 feat. Thane

First thought: Shouldn't Christian Slater be riding a skateboard to this music in someone's empty swimming pool somewhere in the 80s? "Funky Cola" could definitely stand its ground alongside the entire Gleaming the Cube soundtrack or any number of teensploitation films of the era. (No surprise, of course, as their artist bio reads, "Through an inter-dimensional wormhole Block35 transmits the music from a parallel universe stuck between 1988 and 1992. The haunting soundtracks to its strange visions of a future that will never come.") A crisp, popping bass line bubbles through the song, and synth stabs reminiscent of the Pet Shop Boys (not to mention a rhythm track recalling the best of Technique-era New Order) bring this track to shimmering, syrupy life.

"Funky Cola" is $1 (US) on BandCamp. If you like it, buy it.

I'm Loving Lovers & Poets II by Lovers & Poets

Does it help that the first song I heard from the new Lovers and Poets album is a cover of one of my all-time favorite David Bowie songs? Yes, it most definitely does. Their cover of "Ashes to Ashes" is slow and moody with a lush, trippy backing track, and it captures the chill mood of the rest of the album. Highlights include album's opening track, "You + Me in the Summer," a soft-rock gem that isn't hard to imagine spinning on an L.A. turntable circa 1979. (I don't know what that means, exactly, but something about the track put that phrase in my head.) "That's the Way It Goes" opens with a piano riff that would be right at home on Carole King's Tapestry album, but as the song progresses, the funky clavs and synths take us into Buck Rogers territory (in the best way possible), and the rest of the album follows suit with a blend of rootsy singer-songwriter funk-and-disco-influenced rock and silky chillwave synths. "Here Comes the Morning" and a cover of "I Am Barely Breathing" have a distinct 90s vibe that's underscored by vocal reminiscent of Sarah McLachlan, and the album's closer, "Beautiful World" comes off as a prayer to the world we're all capable of making if we only put our hearts to it.

To sum it up, Lovers + Poets II = Carole King + Beach House + Sarah McLachlan. The album is available on BandCamp for $9.99 (US). Individual songs are $1. Definitely check out their version of "Ashes to Ashes." And if you like it, buy it.

Rockin' It Old School: Wild Style by Robots with Rayguns

I have no idea what the lyrics are trying to tell me, but I love the way they sound -- sliced up and processed, alternately high-pitched and growingly low. (Remember Yello's "Oh Yeah" from Ferris Bueller's Day Off? Kind of like that.) Definitely an 80s vibe going on here -- zippy synths, crisp beats, snappy snares. A hint of "Axel F" here, a touch of "Jam On It" there. Once in a while I pick up a very slight whiff of New Order and maybe a little bit of the Cure. It's no accident, of course, that Wild Style, the latest release from Arizona-based Robots with Rayguns, feels like a throwback to the best of 80s electropop... Just check out their album art and the full range of merch they have on offer, or consider the fact that you can buy their latest release on cassette. But it's not just throwback music. At its best moments, Wild Style offers a perfect blend of vintage sounds and contemporary EDM. If this is what the robot revolution will look like, then sign me up...

Wild Style is available for $10 (US) on BandCamp. If you like it, buy it.

My Morning Music: "A Part of History" by Monsieur

This morning, I headed over to Spotify to check out "A Part of History" by Monsieur. The track opens with a jazzy drum beat that's quickly joined by a piano and vocal combo that evokes Stevie Wonder at the height of his popularity in the 1980s. Soon enough, a hand-clapping, foot-stomping hook kicks in: We're all a part of history. Let's keep up the fight for liberty. Well, it would be a start for our victory if we're real masters of our destiny. It's a phrase that rings out repeatedly through the song like a mantra and serves as excellent advice for those of us here in America who are looking forward to our next election. As the song progresses, the lead gives way to beautiful blend of Bobby McFerrin-style scat, funky piano riffs, and a mellow horn section. Great flow, funky beat, strong vocals, and a moving sentiment make this a song worth listening to. Check it out along with the rest of Monsieur's latest album, Sir, for free on Spotify.

Morning Music: "Until It’s Gone” by Little Glass Men

Once again, I selected a tune at random on BandCamp this morning, and this time around it was an experimental electronic track by Little Glass Men. Working out of San Francisco, California, Little Glass Men (or LGM as the hip kids say) is a 26-year-old composer whose experiments in electronica are designed “to inspire visions and spark voyages.” And this track definitely inspires visions. Despite being (accurately) categorized as electronic glitch music, “Until It’s Gone” has a distinctly organic vibe, as the rhythm track consists largely of a splashing sound, like feet marching through a bog or across a shoreline as the tide is rolling out, while the synth that provides the top line melody calls to mind an accordion. If you’re stuck in the office, take a minute (or four-and-a-half) to pop in your ear buds, listen to this tune, and drift off to your happy place.

The track is $1 (US) on BandCamp. If you like it, buy it.

What I Heard This Morning: No Word from China by pel mel

Silly me... I thought I'd discovered a new band when I selected a track at random on BandCamp this morning, but it turns out "No Word from China" by pel mel is almost as old as I am. For obvious reasons, the song brought to mind "Hong Kong Garden" by Siouxsie and the Banshees. And it's not just because of the titles; the lead vocalist (Judy McGee, I'm guessing, based on what I could gather from Wikipedia) sounds a lot like Siouxsie Sioux, and the music gives off a post-punk vibe. I'm also reminded of Bauhaus. There's a galloping, almost mechanical, hi-hat on the rhythm track that gives the song some urgency, a sense that's underscored by the stabbing rhythm guitar that comes in and out throughout the song. Great music for making an escape.

The track is $1 (Australian) on BandCamp. If you like it, buy it.

I Love This Album: Brian Eno & Karl Hyde's Someday World

First, the cover:

I think we're seeing power lines strung over railroad tracks beneath a setting sun. Or maybe it's rising. That may be the Japanese flag lurking in the background. In any case, the image really caught my eye because it says something to me about what it means to be human: We build things that are at once ugly and amazing, leaving footprints all over the planet as the sun rises each day as if to remind us how small we are.

So it makes sense that the first track on the album, "The Satellites," fades in like a sunrise, shakers chirping like crickets in morning dew. When the drums kick in almost a minute-and-a-half into the song, it's like the working world is coming to life and the first hints of traffic are spilling onto the highways. No coincidence, then, that they're preceded and later accompanied by synthesized horn blasts -- a veritable symphony of road rage reflected in the song's lyrics: I need the sound of cars to drown the silent night.

 

The car motif continues in track two, "Daddy's Car": Faster than your daddy's car/Knuckles like lanterns/Laughter in the dark/The earth is turning/Faster than your daddy's car turning. Again, there's tension between nature and humanity's machinations. The world spins quickly. Time slips away. We do our best to leave an impression, but the lone and level sands always cover our tracks.

My favorite track on the album is "A Man Wakes Up." The lyrics imagine someone waking up in a confusing world with no memory of who -- or even what -- he is, but as he makes his way out into a world of broken bottles cracking beneath his feet and power lines buzzing overhead, he comes alive with joy. He may not know much about his world, but he feels in his bones that being alive is good even if it's painful. Musically, a sound akin to radio static gives this track a synthetic feel that's ultimately overtaken by a glorious female vocalist singing, A man wakes up and shines! What I hear in this transition is life triumphing over mechanization and artificiality.

Later tracks continue in a similar vein. "Witness" asks whether you've ever taken a ride only to find out that it didn't take you where you thought you would arrive. "Strip It Down" meditates on the need to simplify. "Mother of a Dog" comes across as a slow investigation into our true nature -- the idea that we're all animals sniffing around a fallen world while miracles happen all around us -- a sense that's underscored by an instrumental break about three-and-a-half minutes into the track that recalls the sunrise fade-in of "The Satellites."

As the album moves toward its conclusion, a track titled "Who Rings the Bell" opens with an industrial hum and an electro-mechanical heartbeat that almost immediately give way to an organic single-note guitar riff, leading into a sweeping vision of the secular miracles that continue to connect everyone in our industrialized world. 

Perhaps in answer to the question posed in the title of the previous track, "When I Built This World" imagines a god building a world complete with a range of flaws, not the least of which are regret, pain, and sin. The song has the feel of a voicemail message, a distant cousin of Laurie Anderson's "O Superman." But when the message ends, the music continues, and it's as if the great clock maker has wound up his creation and set it loose -- the musical equivalent of watching humanity spread across the globe in fast forward over the course of millennia. 

The album's closer, "To Us All," bears fewer overt marks of the industrialized world than previous tracks, but like many other moments on the album, it has the feel of a sunrise. Exhorting us to see the moments that we failed to seize and also to recognize the things that will happen to us all, the song evokes a sense of communion. We live in a fallen world, it implies, but that fallen world is the only world we have.

All told, Someday World describes the transcendence we find in the everyday. Yes, we've done all kinds of damage to the planet we live on -- not to mention all kinds of damage to each other -- but in the end, we're all human, and the fact that we're all here together is a miracle in and of itself.