Archy Marshall — A New Place 2 Drown

When Archy Marshall releases new music, my world stops. Things become blurry, confused. We share a love of all things jangly, boom-bap and introspective all the same. It's a rare musical stew that makes for a combo that has molded me into the person that I am today. The kinship and connection I feel through his music is inexplicable — and yet, totally genealogical, and therefore, sensible. Because we share such similar musical backgrounds, I feel he speaks volumes about my life that I've just not yet been able to convey. It's like he says it, or plays it and I say, "Yeah, that."

So, the inevitability of him not batting a thousand with me has been in the back of my mind for some time. I knew he would eventually release something that didn't immediately floor me and I was perhaps anticipating it even more than the next thing that would.

A New Place 2 Drown was announced very lowkey, rather uncharacteristically, over his rarely used Instagram profile. And, to be completely clear, it is not new music from King Krule. It is simply the soundtrack to a short film and art book, mainly produced by his older brother Jack Marshall (who has also used the name Mr. Gone). And it does sound the piece of something greater, like it's not quite all there. It's a mishmash of Archy's electronic side. Stuttering, post-dubstep rhythms and dreamy melodic synths and keyboard washes fade in and out of each other for about fourty minutes while Archy spits a few bars here and there (he is my favorite MC, after all) and overall, I'm sure most of it was lots of fun to create. And it makes for a really easy listen. It's Archy being himself, perhaps the most personal work he's yet presented — it has been released under his real name, after all. But the song craft, the heart, the soul, the guitar playing (!!!!), it's missing here.

So, here we are, left with a stopgap album that is just simply very good, instead of monumental. Still, the last third or so of this thing is absolutely ace when he declares that, 'She won't forget me ever' and then goes on to blurt out, 'Something in the water distorted her mind. . . GIRL, this place is evil!' It gives me chills how he's able to do that.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with A New Place 2 Drown, it just feels a little short on elevation. Instead of taking a grand step forward after 6 Feet Beneath the Moon, Archy has modestly let loose a snippet of brilliance. It feels more at home with the freebies he used to give away as DJ JD Sports than it does as a proper album. But still, I awaited those bits and beat tape fragments as much as anything released officially, so to have anything new in any regard is something to rejoice, I guess.

Here's to hoping I get that genre-defying masterpiece next time. But for now, A New Place 2 Drown will hit the spot.

Album's defining quote: "We just smoke and let days roll by. . ."

~Austin

Show Reviews: Andrew Bird Gezelligheid and King Krule in San Francisco

I'd not been to a single live show this year until last week.  It was a plan that had been made for at least two months in advance and it was a devious one, indeed.  Andrew Bird one night, King Krule the next.  It seemed almost too good to be true that such a coincidence was occurring, but alas, here I am a few days later and still basking in the wonderfulness I experienced. 

Staying in SF, just blocks away from the synagogue where Andrew Bird was playing, I did not mind getting away from the freezing temperatures of Reno and into the Bay Area's downright hot by comparison low 60's temperatures.  This meant, basically, a lot of walking.  And, inevitably, you see some street names in SF that are funny in one way or another.  Although it's mostly an alley now, this one was rather amusing to me for obvious reasons:

Earlier in the day, we made the walk over to Haight-Ashbury and hit Amoeba.  They now advertise their prowess in their video stock, unfortunately:

I was on a budget, so I shopped wisely and picked up mostly hole fillers for my collection:

(I'll get to them at a later date, but I will say right now that Amoeba's prices on used items have gone up in the last few years, but if you know what you're shopping for, the place still remains an absolute dream of a record store for nerds like me)

As I mentioned, Andrew Bird was playing the Sherith Israel synagogue.  A venue presumably picked for its acoustics and certainly did not disappoint in that regard.  It's an absolutely beautiful piece of architecture and the time spent waiting for the show to begin passed quickly, just admiring the gorgeous attention to detail throughout the place:

The before show house system played a strange, but somehow fitting combination of crackling Carter Family songs and newer solo instrumental guitar work by the likes Bert Jansch (among others).  Andrew played essentially alone, although he was joined by a bassist (whose name I unfortunately did not catch) and Tift Merritt later in the set (and boy did their harmonies sound great!).  He played two sets that lasted about fourty minutes a piece and there wasn't much stage banter or song title announcements.  He started out with one of the instrumental songs from his newest I Want to See Pulaski at Night EP (and then closed the first set with the title track from that EP) and then played a combination of older songs ('Dear Old Greenland'!!), a few from Break it Yourself and a handful of cover tunes, by both contemporary and classic sources.  All of the older material received slight arrangement adjustments and tweaks that made them sound as fresh as ever, and somehow right at home in between the cover tunes.  The show was billed as "Gezelligheid" (pronounced "gah-zell-ig-hide) and the word is supposed to mean something like a relaxed atmosphere.  In that regard, Andrew definitely succeeded.  He closed with the old standy 'Weather Systems' and I have to say, of the three times I've seen him, he's played it every single time and this one was the best.  There were numerous instances where he seemed to change the words to a song because he could, made mistakes that would have gone unnoticed by anyone who didn't already know the song extremely well and, through most of the show, it felt like he was up there letting the audience in on a rehearsal.  Now, when you're as good as Andrew Bird is at what he does, this is the highest compliment that can be paid.  Because he was completely on that night.  It just cemented to me that he is absolutely one of the best musicians on the planet and even when he's basically up there screwing around, he still manages to make completely unique and beautiful music.

Tuesday was, for me, the main event: King Krule at the Independent over on Divisadero.  I'd never been there before, but I was extremely excited upon entering the place and seeing it was only about a four or five hundred capacity room.  This meant any spot in the place could be a good one.  Well, I don't want to brag, but we may have managed to get the best spot in the house:

The opener was Tops (no really, that's their name).  I thought they were okay.  Angel III thought they were good, just based on how much fun they were clearly having up there.  When Archy took the stage around 9.30, I was shaking in anticipation.  Amidst dark blue lights, he launched into 'Has this Hit?' and it wasn't until the second half of the song and Archy burst into his rapping over that irresistible faux-rockabilly riff that it struck me: this is happening.  This is real.  It seemed totally surreal up until that point.  Before I knew it, he was rapping the words at me as I was rapping them right back at him.  The rest of the set just blew me completely and totally away.  His band was completely ace, and through a setlist that included a lot of 6 Feet material, sprinkled with past favorites, something occurred to me that I never thought I would say: the arrangements on 6 Feet Beneath the Moon actually hinder his presentation as a performer.  Good as the album is (and, to be sure, it's my favorite album of at least the last two years), the songs as they were played live in a more sparse, four piece band presentation hit harder and have more immediacy than on the record.  The entire set was full of energy and in the moment beauty that can only lead me to suggest that a live album is not only advisable, but necessary at this point.  The rawked up, "Fuck you, I'm punk as fuck!" run-throughs of 'A Lizard State', 'Rock Bottom' and 'Easy Easy' (with the obligatory audience singalong, no less) were bubbling over with intensity and properly controlled anger, while slower, meditative renditions of 'The Krockadile', 'Baby Blue' and 'The Noose of Jah City' ventured off into six and seven minute lengths that left goosebumps crawling all over me.  The proper set closer 'Out Getting Ribs' was not only a guitar playing clinic (less than five feet in front of my face, no less), it was the highlight of the evening (among many).  A one song encore of 'Portrait in Black and Blue' and a short handshake with the man left me with tears of joy welling up in my eyes.  There is so much contradiction in his music that having such overwhelming feelings of sureness that he is the future of music is definitely confusing.  I may make silly overbearing statements like that, but after seeing him with my own eyes, I can say one thing definitively: he is the real deal.  He is the absolute embodiment of creativity and talent. 

All that, and he totally does a "I don't care if there's people watching me" dance while he plays:

A wonderful way to end out the year.

~Austin

King Krule — 6 Feet Beneath the Moon

It should be mentioned before I even begin this review by saying that this is not actually a review as much as it is a very personal meditation on my own life as a music fan.  In fact, let's just cut to the review right now: this is a masterpiece of brilliant, poignant, essential, life-affirming and life-changing music.  Everyone should learn and sing these songs for the rest of time.

I don't remember it being very hot, or there being much rain (for a change).  It was around the 4th of July, 1996.  I was able to play basketball without sweating to a drip, at least.  The outside light by the garage had a burned out bulb and Grandpa Andy had not replaced it yet.  So, this meant I had about three-quarters of an hour to play a little more after dinner, but after that, I would maybe watch TV or something. 

I usually hated music videos.  The visuals, that is.  I loved the music.  That's why I would switch to MTV or the Box as soon as I got the remote.  So, it was late that night when I finally gained the remote control for the evening.  MTV was in the middle of a Real World marathon, so over to the Box.  It was somewhere in the second half of the video.  Second chorus, where the bouncing karaoke alien head tells you the words.  I recognized the voices right away.  "This is new OutKast," my mind told me after about twenty seconds. 

It would be nearly six weeks before I would actually hear that song again, when the album came out the 27th of August (oddly enough, the proper US release date for 6 Feet Beneath the Moon is the same).  I worked hard around the house to get my mom to buy me ATLiens that Tuesday.  Got it home, put it on and just stared at the stereo for about an hour.  Time didn't stop initially, but when the album was over, it felt like maybe fifteen minutes had passed.  It was the single most spiritual moment of my life up until that point.  I understood about a billionth of what happened in the world and why, but this album —this music— made me not only cower in the sheer overwhelming behemoth of such thoughts but also washed me over with what can only be described as intense fascination with the whole lot of it.

That was the first time music changed the way I thought about the world.  It made me dig deep into myself to reach an area of introspective clarity that's guided me in my everyday life, in varying degrees, ever since.  There were a lot of these kinds of albums when I was younger.  One a year, it seemed.  All have a back story and I can recall the exact circumstances surrounding them.  The last album that I really remember clutching onto my heart and mind with this much strength was Helplessness Blues (2011) .  Before that, David Axelrod (2001).  Before that, Like Water for Chocolate (2000).

They're getting fewer is what I'm trying to say.  And certainly, my age has a lot to do with that.  I am not able to romanticize things in my  now mature mind the way I once did.  So, immediately, everything is to be criticized before it can be properly enjoyed.  There is so much caught up in listening to music these days besides actually just taking it in for what it is.  My overly analytical music dork mind just doesn't allow me to let my guard down very often. 

Anybody who's read Redundant Chicanery for a while knows how highly I think of King Krule.  His words, his guitar playing, his unearthly voice and, most of all, his gift of being able to write such gorgeously resonating songs. 

The arrangements of earlier songs (and indeed, some of the earlier versions of the songs on this album that first appeared on Archy's Zookid Bandcamp page in 2010) were like prototypes for the sound of the songs on 6 Feet Beneath the Moon.  They sounded like what they were: the bedroom recordings of a teenage boy.  But the songs themselves sounded from another planet.  Classic rockabilly guitar colliding with modern drum machines, keyboards and a baritone singer that sounds equal parts classic crooner and shouting soul singer that speaks years of maturity beyond his age.

Just how good some of these songs are is truly remarkable.  These are not just some songs banged out by a teenager and then moved on from.  A look at Archy's old Bandcamp page liner notes for each song reveals a person who poured their entire soul into them. 

The variety is astonishing: the jangle pop of 'Border Line'; the spliffed out angry faux James Brown of 'A Lizard State'; the nearly hip hop beats on 'Will I Come' and 'Bathed in Grey'; the woozy love drunk dream pop of 'Baby Blue'; the seeming sound of J Dilla's soul floating in space on 'Foreign 2'; or even the MPC-meets-big band on 'Neptune Estate.'


Some of these songs are years old.  Proof positive that the truly best music is timeless.

It's what I listen to music for.

Album of the year(s).

King Krule — Rock Bottom b/w Octopus

How appropriate is a new King Krule single at this venture?

Seemingly so well-timed, it's scary.

Because, these, my friends, are not only Mr. Marshall's finest works to date, these two songs have made this year worth tolerating.

Elections, job changes, a constant onslaught of unsureness.

And yet, here's a teenager to make me feel better about everything.

I was teetering on it when he released his self-titled EP about a year ago, but now I'm absolutely sure of it: Archy Marshall is on the cusp of the next wave of British music.

His jangly guitar tone screams classicist, yet his purposely out of tune baritone voice says amateur. His romantic riffs conjure tradition, yet his starkly real observations of the world as a young man with no prospects hit quickly and effectively.

I mean, jeez, the a-side here is a jangle song that uses the now unimpeachable 'Amen Brother' break while our narrator ever so passionately implores that we watch him as he "ascends to shame."  Is this not the perfect person to claim the British guitar rock throne?

'Octopus' (the flip) is even better. It's the 'Noose of Jah City' on a bigger budget and it's just pure magic. A mellow soprano sax harmony to close out the final vamp and that's a wrap.

"Everyone's perspective begins to change."

Or at least I hope so.

Because he is the embodiment of all that can be good about music.

And furthermore, proof for the argument that you can practice and practice for as long as you like, but some people are just born with it.

Less than eight minutes in length and easily worth a year's wait.

Almost scary how good it is.

~Austin

King Krule — King Krule EP

What do you say about a release like this?


Every once in a while, something comes along that just doesn't fit. Sure, it may not sound totally revolutionary in the bigger picture, but when the context is considered, it just seems wrong.

Before going any further, I should point out the main thing: this young man is only seventeen.

He does not have a good singing voice. He does, however, have one of the most refreshing songwriting talents I've heard come out of Britain in recent years. Where the country's music still seems to be mostly planted in the looming shadow of Brit-pop's rockstar obsessed smartass culture, Archy Marshall looks completely inward and towards his heart for direction. As a teenager in post-post-Thatcher Britain, it seems like he's just disappointed with an outlook that simply accepts one's unsure surroundings while trying to continue forth life as a regular human being.

Oh, and he has incredible tunes, too.

I mean, honestly, I've not heard a stronger argument in a long time for the side of "Well, some people are just naturally born with talent."

The thing the dominates all of the EP's thirteen minutes is the fantastically jangly tone of Marshall's guitar. Sure, there is some post-production and whatnot that adds heavier reverb and a slight hint of noise to the songs, but ultimately, his jangly guitar is right up front next to his out of key baritone vocals.

And his words are just as important as anything else here. Truly, he sounds like a man at least twice his actual age. While the dramatics may take you to the edge of sadness while realizing that a person so young has lived and seen more than anyone his age should have, you will find a twisted redemption in his ability to articulate.

A song like 'Portrait in Black and Blue' simply doesn't make sense coming from a seventeen year old. But, somehow, there it is. The opening instrumental '36N63' and the short track 'Lead Existence' pack more maturity in their collective three minutes than some other bands have been yet to achieve after several albums of material.

The closing track 'The Noose of Jah City' is clearly the highlight and the most unique thing here. Amidst a sparse (but affecting) Fender Rhodes chord progression, light guitar arpeggio and simple drum loop, the song builds into a thing of sheer beauty. Its meaning is a bit unsure, but it ultimately seems to be about finding nothing but disappointment in a burgeoning world to a young mind. This sort of thing might be tedious under certain circumstances, but in Marshall's world, this is the foundation on which inspiration can build a masterpiece. I can't stop playing it.

If nothing else, the whole thing reminds me of early Aztec Camera in the best possible way.

Exponential potential.

~Austin

PS— Marshall's early recordings from last year under the name Zoo Kid can be found here. They are just as good (if not a bit more rough).