Apologies for the ads, it’s the only place I could find it still up. If you know someone with the Jonathan Glazer volume of the Director’s Label, you can watch it in a nice high quality. Well worth it.
I’ve had the opening to Paradise Circus by Massive Attack stuck in my head as I woke up the past few days. It’s a nice opening, but I’m wondering why it’s been a recurring thing.
And here’s just the song for those who want to hear it but are bothered by or not able to view the video:
The NSFW video is behind the break. (It auto-plays.)
I know I’ve heard this song somewhere else, but for the life of me, I can’t place where. I do, however, know where I was (re)introduced to it: this afternoon, driving home from work, Essie Jain came into KEXP for a live performance and interview, and I immediately became enamored with this young lady from London. Her interview was delightful and personable, and the music was simply stunning. She’s currently touring for the release of her first album, We Made This Ourselves, of which “Glory” is the first track.
If you’re looking for layers or technical complexity, then you’re looking in the wrong place. “Glory” is primarily a vocalist and guitar, with another guitar accompanying, adding texture to the melody. That’s about it. Despite this simplicity (or perhaps because of it), “Glory” manages to capture a particular mood and atmosphere that simultaneously reminds me of walking in the summer twilight as the day’s heat cools off, and spending an evening curled up by a fireplace with a good book and hot chocolate as the snow falls outside. It may seem odd at first to have these two images juxtaposed, but if you think about it, they both depict the same sort of mellow, dreamy state of being. It’s a great feeling to have, and that essence distilled into a song is equally great to listen to.
[“Glory” by Essie Jain Free MP3]
Today I’d like to go back to an old favorite, Morphine. On this day in 1999, Mark Sandman, front man of Morphine, died of a heart attack while on stage in Italy. While I’m sure he would have preferred to not die, I suspect that he would have appreciated going out playing as he did. Sandman (and his compatriots in the band) was a consummate musician, often playing unique, heavily modified instruments to create an unparalleled, interesting sound. Given the circumstances, the song I selected seems perhaps a little morbid, but appropriate: “Gone for Good” off Yes.
It’s a quiet song, just sparse guitar work and Sandman’s deep, resonating vocals. The lyrics paint a clear picture, and really conveys a sense of loneliness and rejection, the unrequited lover coming to terms with the realities of a situation. “Never gonna walk up your walk and ring your bell and feel you fall into my arms. No, never gonna see you again — you’re gone for good.”
At various points in my life, this song has really struck a personal chord with me. I won’t say all, but I imagine most of us have gone through one of these periods, where friends or family are dying, or you’ve been rejected by the love of your life, or hell, all of the above. You feel fragile, right on the hairy edge of breaking, as you realize the loss. This song perfectly captures that. This may, perhaps, depress some, but I hope that listeners will be able to appreciate the craftsmanship inherent in capturing that emotion and distilling it in a song regardless of the mood it may direct you to.
I’ll admit it: I’m a big fan of KEXP, and often end up raiding their fine selection of Song of the Day Podcasts for songs to review. I also, however, read their blog, where they often link to some really interesting independent artists, alternative tracks, remixes, and things you might not always hear on the radio. That would be the case with “Tomato Song” by PWRFL POWER. I haven’t been able to find info on buying an actual album, but he (yeah, it’s one guy, Kazutaka Nomura, a 22 year old Japanese International Student, currently living in Seattle) is apparently touring a fair bit (mostly in Japan). He’ll be at the Capitol Hill Block Party at the end of the month, but I’ll still be in Vermont. Ah well.
It’s an interesting song: acoustic guitar with an interesting progression, and simply sung lyrics, which gives a sort of childlike feel to the song that belies the nuances within the lyrics. There’s nothing grandiose or overly complex about the song: it’s simply good. I imagine he would be a great live show, so those of you on the east coast or in Japan, go check him out while you can (tour dates and locations are on his MySpace).
[“Tomato Song” by PWRFL POWER Free MP3]
Welcome to the modern epic rock ballad. No, I’m not kidding. Off Get Yr Blood Sucked Out, Viva Voce’s “We Do Not Fuck Around” starts softly, before breaking into a marching, explosive chorus that brings back the best elements of the rock ballads of the late 70s and 80s, but with a flavor that is a bit more modern while staying true to its roots. When the guitar breaks out and the chorus begins, you can’t help but want to get up and shout the lyrics along with them: “Hey ya’ll, we do not fuck around!”
We’ve all had those days: the days where the shit is hitting the proverbial fan, and you wade into it with both arms swinging. You’re there to get things done, and you’re not going to put up with any drama or bullshit from anyone or anything. There is a white hot passionate fury behind your eyes, and people scatter to avoid your path, because when the hammer falls, it’s going to be a 500 megaton bomb on whatever you’ve set to task. It’s getting to a work site to discover a seemingly insurmountable amount of work before you… and then powering through it before lunch. It’s getting assigned a 5 page essay and handing in a heavily researched 50 page dissertation. Your enemies shall be utterly destroyed, and your allies shall be protected from damn near anything.
That’s this song. An anthem to that idea, that fire that burns away all the cruft and gets to its core with laser precision. This is a song to play LOUD, before marching in to quit, or ask for that raise, or to ask that girl you like out, to remind yourself of that fire, and that you, too, do NOT fuck around.
[We Do Not Fuck Around Free MP3]
I’m a firm believer in maintaining an eclectic breadth of music, so now I’m going to dive into some Creative Jazz with “Caved-In Heart Blues” by the Nels Cline Singers, off their JUST released Draw Breath. If the name sounds familiar, that would be because Nels is also the lead guitarist of the band Wilco (who are excellent in their own right, though wildly different than this sound). The Nels Cline Singers is an experimental/creative jazz trio he does on the side.
“Caved-In Heart Blues” is an instrumental piece, which is primarily a steady, deep drum and bass at a slow, steady interval, accompanied by some really fantastic guitar work that plays around with several elements often found within the blues. As the song progresses, other instruments are temporarily added, before returning to the core elements, creating a nice shift that serves as a refresh within the song. On the second of these shifts, it sounds like some atmospherics were added, which left me vaguely feeling like it was a good synthesis of ProjeKct Two’s Space Groove, and the quieter soloist guitar work of Mark Knopfler. This, to me, is a very good thing. I’m quite well pleased with this discovery, and I look forward to picking up the rest of the album in the future.
[“Caved-In Heart Blues” Free MP3] (You may need to enter the ID3 tags manually… I had to, at least.)
[Nels Cline’s Official Site] (Tons of good info and free MP3s)
[Draw Breath on Cryptogramophone] (Label’s Site)
I was introduced to Diane Cluck through my brother*, and her album, Oh Vanille / Ova Nil. Selecting a single song to talk about off this album was, well, difficult. They’re all excellent, intimate, spells woven with softly sung words and acoustic accompaniment. I ended up opting for “The Turnaround Road,” thought I was also sorely tempted by “Telepathic Desert”. As a way of a general introduction: Diane Cluck is a New York based musician who is considered part of the “anti-folk” movement (which, despite the term, is actually a genre of folk… musical genres and sub-genres often end up with bizarre titles, so I wouldn’t worry too much about it: you either like it, or you don’t). I’ve listened to Diane Cluck through a variety of means, and I must say that I think I like it most via headphones: her music is complex and nuanced, and headphones seem to work best to create that intimate, personal experience that so suits her music.
One of the most notable things about this song (and the rest of her work) is the use of strong imagery within the lyrics, with a spiraling progression created through revisited images as the revelation continues to grow. This creates a wonderful wave of images, with each connecting to the next, then revisited to tie it back to the beginning once more. As an example, the song opens with “Cars’ three point turns make pentagrams in the dirt at the end of the road where I sit in the morning.” Then, towards the end of the song, this same image is revisited, but altered, which suits the progression of the song: “Cars’ three point turns make mandalas in the dirt at the end of the road where I sit in the morning.” It’s a small alteration, but it’s a strong one: it creates a connection and relation between the start and the end, yet shows nuance and change, that the song had meaning and personal revelation for the author and, hopefully, the listener as well.
I wish there were more samples around to make available to those who might be interested: she really is well worth the listen, but currently there are very few methods to discover her work without spending at least a little money. (It makes me appreciate the KEXP song of the day arrangement even more… as well as Warren Ellis’s “for review purposes” policy: he posts it via a private server for 7 days, then deletes it, and will pull it immediately if requested by the artist.) Go listen. You’ll be glad you did.
[“The Turnaround Road” on iTunes Pay MP3]
* – In turn, I think he discovered her through one of our former roommates, Kate. I could be wrong about that, though.