What's New?: 8.4.2015

Calming sounds.

Labradford — Fixed :: Context (2000) Spotify

Modern ambient sounds from Virginia, this is actually the group's final album (well, so far, anyway).  It's very quiet music that builds, but never really releases its tension.  Just have a listen to the eighteen minute sidelong opener to get an idea of what I'm talking about.  It's mostly guitars making the sounds, with a smattering of low key electronics and keyboards (dig that fender rhodes there, fellas).  It does feel kind of samey after a while, like maybe the songs are just one long intro.  But hey, when something's as lovely as 'Up to Pizmo' you won't find me complaining.  Kind of like a sparser Sigur Rós, without vocals.  I can dig it, especially at three AM.  Key tracks: the gorgeous 'Up to Pizmo' and the melancholy closer 'Wien'

Pan American — 360 Business / 360 Bypass (1999) YouTube Spotify

Mark Nelson's concurrently running project to Labradford can be a bit more song-oriented at times, or sometimes just as ambient.  Also, he sings.  The opener is a ten minute ambient techno workout, which melds into the dreamy sound collage turned proper song 'Code.'  Deep, ambient house grooves pop up later on and there's not much more to say other than that this is mood music.  Key tracks: 'K. Luminate' and the dubby jazz on the twelve minute closer 'Both Ends Fixed'

Pan American — Quiet City (2004) YouTube Spotify

This one starts off with unmistakably Labradford-esque guitar arpeggios on 'Before', but don't think Mark is rehashing his old band's ideas because the very next track is the ambient dub trip 'Wing.'  Song lengths are overall shorter this time out, with only two of the album's eight tracks venturing off into 8+ minute territory.  It's less beat-focused than 360 Business / 360 Bypass and Mark takes a few more vocals than before (mostly just whispering), making this is an even calmer affair.  Key tracks: the gorgeous centerpiece 'Skylight' and the redemptive closer 'Lights of Little Towns'

Pan American — Cloud Room, Glass Room (2013) YouTube Spotify

If you hadn't guessed by now, all these PanAm albums are really similar-sounding and are a definite acquired taste, but if you like that sound, you'll like 'em all if you like one.  The sound of this album is a bit more poppy, but the average song length is about six minutes, so Mark did away with any chances at accessibility.  'Relays' has a really nice little ambient house bass groove to it.  Key tracks: 'Relays' and the noisy closer 'Virginia Waveform'

Stereolab — Instant 0 in the Universe (2003) YouTube Spotify

This is basically the single for '...Sudden Stars.'  It's definitely of a piece with Margerine Eclipse, but maybe a bit more bouncy in overall mood.  Is it just me or does the clavinet on the middle portion of 'Mass Riff' sound vaguely like 'Superstition'?  Helluva tune, in any case.  Short and sweet, like all of the Groop's EPs.  Key tracks: the bookends '...Sudden Stars' and 'Mass Riff'

Steve Tibbetts — Natural Causes (2010) YouTube

This guitarist has been kicking around the ECM roster since the early 80's.  And like a lot of folks on the label, what he plays can't rightly be called jazz, nor classical, nor new age, but it has shades of all three.  Have a listen to the multi-movement 'Padre-Yaga' to get an idea of what he's up to.  Marc Anderson accompanies on hand percussions of all sorts throughout.  It kind of has that Michael Hedges quality to it where it might appear to be simple background music, but is actually quite challenging when you focus your listening.  Not quite in the Fahey-esque school of acoustic picking, either, as it's a bit too ethereal for that.  Whatever, some really gorgeous playing, melancholy as it may be.  Very soundtracky, as well.  Key tracks: the steel drum-enhanced 'Lakshmivana' and the appropriately titled closing tracks 'Lament' and 'Threnody'

Abdullah Ibrahim — Cape Town Revisited (1997) YouTube Spotify

The great pianist Abdullah Ibrahim in a live trio setting and from the opening notes, I've rarely heard him sound happier — and that's saying something for this guy.  The three part suite 'Cape Town to Congo Square' is the centerpiece here: part one (the funky as all get out 'African Street Parade'), part two and the redemptive third part.  There's a reason I buy up everything I see when it comes to this guy.  He's one of the most unique voices to ever play his instrument.  Just purely happy music, guaranteed to put you in a good mood.  Key tracks: the 'Cape Town to Congo Square' trilogy, 'Water from an Ancient Well' and a funky version of 'Soweto'

The Lilac Time — Paradise Circus (1989) Spotify

It's been too long running that the only Lilac Time album I've had was the first one.  Where that first album had a bit of a folk rocky slant to it, this second album is a much more produced jangle pop affair.  The pedal steel and pizzicato layers on 'If the Stars Shine Tonight' is a good indicator of what's going on here.  Elsewhere, lots of accordion and banjo.  The big, emotional centerpiece 'Father Mother Wife and Child' is worthy of a listen.  Overall, nothing all that amazing happens, but the tunes are all solid (maybe a tad overproduced, but it was 1989, after all).  Key tracks: 'Father Mother Wife and Child' and the opener 'American Eyes'

~Austin

What's New?: 8.2.2015

Noisy and a little bit of pretty, please.

Mall Walk — Criminal Code/Container (2015)

Hands down, my favorite new band right now.  Hailing from Oakland, these guys just write some damn songs, buddy.  The a-side is a layered and catchy tune that manages to straddle noisy and jangly and simultaneously make such a thing appear effortless.  The flip is quite possibly the noisiest thing they've yet done.  I hope this is a table setter for a full length.  Here's the band playing 'Criminal Code' live.  Key tracks: 'Criminal Code', of course

Mall Walk — s/t (2014)

Cassettes! They're back! RUN.  A cheap and easy way for bands to get their music "out there" in a physical sense, I can't be that mad when they include a download code (as this does).  Plus, this is really good.  Just have a listen to the opener and marvel at how well-constructed it is, just as a song.  The bar is set right then and there and it's adhered to very strictly through all of the the EP's five songs.  The noise-encrusted middle section on 'Teen Missing' shows obvious debts to Sonic Youth, but elsewhere, it's hard to pin down just what these guys are doing that makes them so special.  The mastery of songcraft, perhaps?  I can't call it, but I damn sure love it.  This one should've appeared on my favorites of 2014 list, but we can't all be there right when it happens, y'know.  Check them out on Bandcamp or their website.  Key tracks: 'Unsold' and 'Treadmill'

Ty Segall — Singles 2007-2010 (2011)

All sorts of noisy modern punk sounds from the prolific Ty Segall.  A majority of the songs clock in at 120 seconds or less and there's lots o'distortion and killer riffs, duder.  Some of it sounds like T.Rex with no budget.  Other parts of it seemingly have no business being so tuneful.  But mostly, it's snotty vocals and sludgy melodies.  Good music for riding the bus to, 'cause it makes you feel a little badass.  Spotify.  Key tracks: 'Caesar', 'Lovely One', '...and then Judy walked in' or 'So Alone'

Pullman — Turnstiles + Junkpiles (1998)

An all acoustic affair from post-rock icons Chris Brokaw (Codeine), Bundy K. Brown (Gastr del Sol, Tortoise), Curtis Harvey (Rex) and Doug McCombs (Tortoise).  It's on the prettier, decidedly Windham Hill-ish end of the acoustic spectrum, going for pure mood and melody over technicality.  Not to slight it, because the melodies are ace all the way through, and far from simple.  It's wonderful Sunday morning music and a great little detour in the respective catalogues of all involved.  Spotify.  Key tracks: 'Gravenhurst' and the emotional centerpiece 'Deer Hill'

Destruction Unit — Live in San Francisco (2014)

And then, things got wildly psychedelic.  Mountainous portions of delay and distortion on top of already fuzzed out guitars make for something that's like shoegaze, but altogether darker.  It's got a rumbling melodic bass low end to the whole stew of sounds that keeps it anchored, otherwise this would sound like an all out noise free for all.  Must've been pretty punishing —or alternately, mind-clearing— to be there in person.  YouTube.  Key tracks: the sidelong rendition of 'Night Loner' seems like a pretty useful statement of purpose

Destruction Unit — Deep Trip (2013)

In the studio, the band dials it back, ever so slightly. Just to give you an idea of what's going on here, the LP comes packaged with a sheet of 900 fake tabs of acid. So, yeah. No pretenses here about what they're going for.  Still, there's a wonderment in this music, as harsh as it can be at times.  You gotta figure, for as astral-sounding as it is, there's some real thought behind it.  And when taken to its logical extreme, it can get a little discordant and ugly, but it always retains that sense of travel, of exploration.  Great music for hot days.  YouTube.  Spotify.  Key tracks: 'Bumpy Road' and the most focused the band gets on 'Night Loner'

Dorthy Ashby — Dorothy's Harp (1969)

In further "woe is me" tales, I once had all of Dorothy's Cadet albums, except this one (which has been ever elusive, until this Japanese CD reissue), but I traded them all in for probably stupid reasons.  So, here I go, venturing into the world of Dorothy Ashby for a second time.  And this time, I'm starting off right, as I can cross another one off my want list of sampled tracks: 'Cause I Need It' (a wonderful original tune, among an album of mostly covers) is such a majestic and gorgeous little ditty.  I can listen to it on repeat, fergoodnessakes!  The rest of the album is definitely in the mode of the more commercial ventures going on at Cadet around the time, as Dorothy mainly plays themes and variations thereof, with very little actual soloing going on.  It's tastefully arranged by the great Richard Evans, so this doesn't detract from the album's quality.  Wonderful music.  YouTube.  Key tracks: 'Cause I Need It' and the lush (even for this album) 'Reza'

Stereolab — Peng! (1992)

The Groop's first proper album is so fully formed, it only makes sense that they only got more polished as time went on.  The opener is surprisingly calm.  Then, blam, here's the warm, distortiony Groop you know and love.  It's all good fun throughout until the last track layers its way through your headphones for one of the prettiest 'Lab tunes and possibly their best closer ever.  Surprising how easily this stuff goes down.  YouTube.  Spotify. Key tracks: 'Surrealchemist', the super dreamy 'Enivrez-Vous' and 'Super Falling Star'

Stereolab — Margerine Eclipse (2004)

And here, on the band's eighth proper full length and first after Mary Hansen's untimely death, the Groop is in full on space bachelor pad mode. It's a very calm affair — perhaps unexpectedly so, considering the circumstances.  Lush, succulent and sumptuous are words that come to mind to describe the goings on here.  'Margerine Rock' is about as lively as things get.  As it stands, kind of a lower tier work in their later catalogue, but still up to their very highest of standards.  Worthwhile, if you're a fan.  YouTube.  Spotify.  Key tracks: 'Vonal Declosion', '...Sudden Stars' and 'Dear Marge', which ends in an honest to goodness dance party, if you can believe it

~Austin

What's New?: 10.30.2012

I'm so far behind, I had genuinely forgotten about some of these.  Let's get into it. . .

Bert Jansch — L.A. Turnaround (1974)

It's been a long time going that I've not really had any solo Bert Jansch albums in my collection.  Secondhand copies are downright unheard of around here (and yet, for some reason, John Renbourn albums popping up frequently is the status quo).  So, if I'm going to have to resort to getting the albums on reissue, I'm glad the Drag City label is handling them with such care (how else would they handle them, after all?).  This, I guess, was supposed Bert's big venture into the California soft rock scene, but it's only slightly leaning in that direction.  With instrumentals like 'Chambertin', the mildly bluegrassy 'Cluck Old Hen' (featuring the great Klaus Voorman on bass!) and the graceful 'Traveling Man', it's still more British folk than anything.  There are a few songs where there is a full band backing, but it's largely just Bert's voice and some strings of some sort.  Bert's guitar playing throughout is just as good and technically amazing as ever.  The album was produced by Mike Nesmith (of the Monkees), which might seem like the mother of all mismatches, but the sound is intimate and sparse, upping the emotional ante of tunes like 'Of Love and Lullaby' and 'Needle of Death.'  It does have a tone about it of artistic purity and victory, which despite the weight of some of the material, makes for a really special listen.  Only other Bert album I have is A Rare Conundrum and this one edges that one, ever so slightly.  Two for two, Bert.

Van Der Graaf Generator — H To He, Who Am The Only One (1970)

It's proggy, sure.  But there's something about this album that doesn't seem to really fit in with other prog of the time.  I think it has something to do with the unwavering tempos (deadly slow, they are) and the actually catchy vocal melodies.  It's actually very pleasantly reminiscent of Pink Floyd's more contemplative material.  Check out 'House With No Door' for a good idea of what's going on here.  There is a very trippy, spacey tone to this music.  The kind that seems a little cliched to bring up when discussing prog, but it actually does feel like these songs create a mini world of their own sometimes.  Definite headphone music.  For deep thinkers and slow walkers.  Robert Fripp guests on a track.  And hey, they were from Manchester!  Good stuff.

Dexys Midnight Runners — Too-Rye-Ay (1983)

Yeah, this album is unfairly judged.  Where Don't Stand Me Down was an ignored masterpiece, Too-Rye-Ay was enormously popular because. . . well, do I even need to tell you?  Because of this era-defining song and video, that's why.  But honestly, what if I told you 'Come On Eileen' was actually one of the most socially uplifting songs of the 80's?  I, too, thought it was just a song about a guy wanting to score for several years.  But it's not.  It's about taking the crappy hand that you're dealt and telling it to go to hell and taking control of your life.  In the midst of Thatcher-era Britain, Kevin Rowland told synthesizers and drum machines to fuck off, got banjos and accordions into the arrangement and wrote lyrics like this: "These people 'round here / With their beat down eyes sunk in smoke dried faces / They're resigned to what their fate is / But not us / We are far too young and clever"  It's been assigned to novelty one hit wonder status for too long.  I'm officially reclaiming it here and now as one of the greatest successes in pop music history in terms of being obtuse and artsy, while simultaneously being irresistibly catchy.  To say it's a good song seems almost like an insult.  It's a song that should be sang for years to come whenever someone overcomes any sort of odds.  I roundly assert it "Fuck yeah!" status.  What about the rest of the album?  It musically sounds a lot like some of Van Morrison's albums from the early 70's.  And I don't just say this because there's a Van Morrison cover here, but it seems like Kevin Rowland was going for a genuine and convincing melding of the traditional Irish folk melodies he grew up with and the American soul music he romanticized.  The album's leadoff song 'The Celtic Soul Brothers' is pretty damned believable in this respect, while 'Plan B' points the way towards the next album.  Like Don't Stand Me Down after it, Too-Rye-Ay has next to no electric instruments and a banjo or accordion on nearly every song.  It's just striking how unique this band was considering the pop music climate of the time and how they've simultaneously been lumped in with that crowd in retrospect (especially here in America).  They're wonderfully unique though.  More than I had ever imagined.  This CD reissue from the 90's has a wealth of live performances and b-sides as its bonus, all of which properly set the table for the masterwork, Don't Stand Me Down, that was to follow.

Stereolab — Switched On (1991)

Some of the Lab's earliest recordings are found here.  This is striking stuff, when you consider the date.  Because they've become such an institution, it's easy to overlook just how different Stereolab was when they began.  Just turn your brain off and have a listen to the album's first track.  And yeah, they do that for the whole album.  Like all early Lab stuff, it is very much mining one groove for all it's worth.  But nobody sounded like this at the time, so that's okay.  It is kind of noisy, but in that great, warm, buzzing Stereolab sort of way that feels toned down a bit.  Hard not to love, actually.

Stereolab — Aluminum Tunes [Switched On Volume 3] (1994-1997)

As the Switched On series became a regular thing, it got bigger.  This culminated in the two disc third volume.  This one is twenty five songs and two hours of peak period Groop.  The related material and b-sides from Mars Audiac, Emperor and Dots is all here and it's all pretty damn good.  And, for the most part, this is all new material.  Really the only repeat here is the Wagon Christ remix of 'Metronomic Underground', which is so good and unique from the original, it doesn't matter (and hell yeah, that's a Turtles sample in there!).  At this point, Stereolab had become a brand name, so their sound is firmly cemented — that is, loungey noise pop.  And it's almost scary how easily two hours will slip by when you play it.  It does feel a bit more electronic than their albums of the time were, so that alone makes it worth a listen.  Some of it ranks among their trippiest material, as well. 

Arthur Lyman — Taboo Vol. 2 (1960)

This initially came to my attention because David Axelrod was rumored to be the album's producer.  There are not production credits listed, but Axe was an in-house producer for the Hifi Jazz label at the time and he has talked about recording this album in several interviews.  This was, of course, a few years before Axe was an artist in his own right, so it sounds like an Arthur Lyman album, more or less.  Plenty of silly "exotica" overtones and campy flourishes in the arrangements.  Previews available here.  For a dollar at the thrift store, I'm not really mad at this one.  I can cross another record off my David Axelrod checklist. 

John Fahey — The Yellow Princess (1969)

And yeah, John Fahey is just about to consume my soul these days. This album is considered one of his all time classics and it's easy to see why.  Just have a listen to the title track here and. . . uhh, yeah.  That's pretty much what I'm all about these days.  The whole album is that good.  Couple songs have a full band backing (this and that), one song is weird Fahey and the last two songs are multi-movement introspective epics.  Really inspiring that a guy can sit there with six or twelve strings and just. . . create.  I used to have a lot of Fahey albums, but never this one.  'Tis good.

Cal Tjader — Cal Tjader-Stan Getz Sextet (1958)

A part of me does not like Stan Getz.  Just a small part.  But it is feverishly strong.  Why this is, I don't know or understand.  Something to do with his critical comments about Miles Davis.  I don't know, honestly.  Because, everything I hear from his 50's and early 60's stuff is awesome.  Already getting back into Cal Tjader, but this album has made me reevaluate my view of Stan as well.  I mean, this is pretty badass, no matter how you slice it.  The waltz 'Liz Anne' is definitely the highlight because I love the way Cal and Stan play off the time signature.  Might sound corny to say so, but I feel like I can hear them smiling.  Vince Guaraldi and the legend himself, Scott LaFaro, are in the band on this one, along with ace guitarist Eddie Duran.  You can tell everybody was smiling a lot during these sessions.  Just great stuff.

Cal Tjader — At Grace Cathedral (1976)

Funky funky Cal from the 70's. This was actually a last minute stand-in performance by Tjader for his recently deceased friend Vince Guaraldi, who was scheduled to perform. Considering that weighty circumstance, you'd think the program would be a little less lively than it is — but no, Cal knew that the time was right for something invigorating and life-affirming. Side one is just two long workouts: Cal's original 'I Showed Them' and a really groovy version of Milt Jackson's 'Bluesology.' The highlight though, appropriately, is the band's medley of Black Orpheus, which Cal dedicates to Vince. A wonderful rendition of 'Body and Soul' and we're done. This is from Cal's often neglected mid-70's Fantasy period, but the band is completely ace. The lovely, floating melodic leads from Cal on vibes and Lonnie Hewitt on Fender Rhodes electric piano make the album sound like a wash of dreamy improvisation. A really happy and celebratory album.

Jethro Tull — Stand Up (1969)

A grizzly and buzzingly melodic bluesy album from the Tull here.  The first song is the crunchy, cascading waltz 'A New Day Yesterday' which perfectly captures the reflective, unsure mood of the late 60's.  There's definitely a slant towards the folkiness that would become an integral part of their sound here.  The observational narrative 'Jeffrey Goes to Leicester Square' into the Bach meets funk rock of 'Bourée' should be clue enough that this band was kinda sorta all about blowing the walls straight down in these days.  Not everything is a complete success, but it sure as hell is listenable.  And then, of course, there's 'We Used to Know.'  Which is clearly a brilliant song.  There's another song that sounds like it, maybe you've heard it, as well?  They would do great things, shortly.  This is a nice table setter for those things.  If you like Aqualung, you'll like this one too.

Prefab Sprout — Steve McQueen (1985)

Known as Two Wheels Good in good ol' merckah (a nation of defensive bitches; let's just be honest), this album was Prefab Sprout's second. As they were pretty much demigods of British jangle at the time —the second wave following the Smiths and Aztec Camera— I have no idea how I've made it this far in my life without hearing such perfect pop gems like 'Bonny' or 'Goodbye Lucille #1.'  Really right there with the best of the British indie of the time.  Just such a timely and appropriate album for me right now.  A bit cheesy at times, but in that great nostalgic way that kind of earns points, actually.  Oh, dear: yeah, it's really good.

~Austin

What's New?: 9.20.2012

So far behind.  Still.

Terence Trenty D'Arby — TTD's Vibrator (1995)

*long sigh* When TTD flirted with more traditional rock textures in his first two albums, it felt very natural; a genuine extension of his style. But the gratuitous wah wah and distortion pedals all over the guitars throughout this album just sound cheap and contrived. That's not more apparent than on the otherwise good ballad 'Holding On to You.' Just completely unnecessary. I'm not that crazy about a "soul rock" sound in the first place, but this album just takes it that extra step. The drum loops and horn samples all over 'C.Y.F.M.L.A.Y.?' sound almost cartoony at points. But similar things a few songs later on 'Surrender' work exceedingly well, achieving a point of resonance that the rest of the album seems to be pretending it's capable of. Very next song 'TTD's Recurring Dream' is lush and dreamy. Truly the best this album has to offer. The last few songs end on the similarly overwrought note that the album began on and overall, it strikes me as an overproduced, overly ambitious work that only occasionally reaches its potential.

Bix Beiderbecke — Volume 2: At the Jazz Band Ball (1927/1928)

Early swing collection from one of the architects of the sound. As these sorts of things go, these are recordings in which Bix was a featured soloist. He was the leader of a few of these sessions, but the goofy vocal numbers with Willard Robison are pure fun on their own, without the Bix connection, just because they are so timely. Elsewhere, pure awesome occurs on the title track and 'Since My Best Gal Turned Me Down.' A scattershot collection of stuff, but when it's good, it's really good.

Billy Bragg & Wilco — Mermaid Avenue Vol. II (2000)

While this volume doesn't have the obvious standout that volume one had, it does hang together better as an album. Billy Bragg sings his whimsical heart out on the more playful numbers My old friend Natalie Merchant even stops by here for a tune (and it's great!). Wilco pretty much steals the show with their tunes. The building 'Remember the Mountain Bed', the eerie 'Blood of the Lamb' and the album closing beauty 'Someday Some Morning Sometime' all make for darn fine listening. Overall, I missed it at the time, but the influence of Bob Dylan's Basement Tapes looms large over this one. Pretty nice stuff. And fun.

The Jesus and Mary Chain — Automatic (1989)

I've had this one on vinyl for years, but in true late 80's anti-vinyl propaganda, it's missing two songs! The two extras were among some of the first things I ever purchased digitally and that is also when I learned my lesson the hard way: digital media sucks too, because it gets corrupted and they count on you just saying, "Enh, it's only a buck" and buying it again and again and again. . . But, finding this CD for 50¢ finally ended my bitterness towards this album (and made me realize that the things I didn't like it for were not its fault). It's a much more rockin' affair than Darklands (which I still say is their best album), but it's just so relentlessly catchy! The big, crunchy guitars and cheesy drum machines on 'Head On' have become something of a holy grail by this point. It deserves whatever praises it receives. The sludgy textures on 'Gimme Hell' predict grunge, without falling prey to the pompous tendencies (the jay ay emm see were always brilliant songwriters anyway). This never has been my favorite JaMC album, but it's definitely right up there with their initially brilliant 80's run. Really nice to finally have hard copies of the two extra songs.

Stereolab — Sound-Dust (2001)

Some very David Axelrod-esque textures in this album that I hadn't noticed when I heard it before (about seven or eight years ago). After a floaty one minute intro vamp, 'Baby Lulu' breaks into one of the best breaks in modern times. Although I've moved on, my inner-MPC glutton is potentially drooling. The dreamy atmosphere that permeates through the songs, the heavy reliance on vibes. Yeah, I get definite vibes of Axelrod. The arrangements handled by Jim O'Rourke really shine on tunes like 'Nought More Terrific Than Man' and 'Suggestion Diabolique' (really conjuring Seriously Deep here). An oft-neglected Stereolab album. But a unique one, just on the basis of John McEntire and Jim O'Rourke's participation (the material is decidedly unfamiliar for the Groop, as well). Awesome.

The Dukes of the Stratosphear — Chips from the Chocolate Fireball (1985/1987)

In which, our friends XTC masquerade as a Nuggets-inspired retro band. This is actually just the EP 25 o'Clock and the full length Psonic Psunspot collected together on one disc. They totally nail the Electric Prunes with the title track on the EP. And that's the fun thing here: try to figure out who they're copying. But, to even say that they're "copying" feels like it's a shot at them. When in fact, they're just really inspired by the 60's bands they grew up with. 'What in the World?' is obviously straight out of obsessive Sgt. Pepper listening, but it's a darn catchy tune on its own. 'Vanishing Girl' is obviously a 60's-influenced gem, for instance, but it doesn't really have any of those major touchstones and feels more like the real XTC playing what they wanted to play. As great as Skylarking is, the material the band recorded in the immediate aftermath seems more closely pointed towards the direction that they were focused on all along. It's one case in the history of rock music where the band members were probably all much more dedicated to the side project than they were the main gig. For that, it just emits awesomeness.

Lou Reed — self-titled (1972)

Most of Lou Reed's debut album consists of songs that the Velvet Underground had tossed away. The recordings of the Velvets' versions of these tunes are now rock and/or roll history, but when this album came out in 1972, nobody knew them and few knew the Velvets in the first place. This album was recorded in England. Indeed, between a break from Yes recording sessions, Steve Howe and Rick Wakeman played on this album. I can't even conceive of the hilarity and awesomeness of that meeting of minds. The versions of the songs that were initially done by the Velvets are generally not as good as what they initially were. The cheesy psuedo-soul background vocals on most of the album are mostly to blame. However, the decidedly more folky take on 'I Love You' is much more interesting than the stock Velvets sound applied to previous takes. And, I have to say, while that initial Velvets version of 'Ride Into the Sun' is pastoral and very resonating, Lou's version here just sounds so much cooler. Maybe I am rockist after all. Lou attempted 'Ocean' here as well and it's still a good song, just didn't pan out with the overproduction. I would say that, in retrospect, this album does play as the next Velvets album, after Loaded. It's just not as good (which merits the question: what is?). This UK edition from 2000 (the only version currently in print) is worthwhile, if for nothing else than the liner notes, which go into very close detail about the surroundings of the album's recording sessions. Certainly Lou at the crossroads, but definitely of interest to Velvets fans.

Fran Healy — Wreckorder (2010)

Jeez, has it really been almost five years since the last Travis album? I am a whore for their brand of MOR jangle, so I have no excuses for just now getting hipped to this mini-masterpiece. I am a big fan, obviously. That this album reminds me of Travis, but hints at a specific mood that I don't feel like Fran's band could have accomplished as well, is a very important sign. Tracks one and two are very Travis-esque, if Travis were a bit more subdued. 'Sing Me to Sleep' then pops up —unforeseen Neko Case cameo and all— and just realigns the entire mood of the album. The otherwise whimsically gloomy 'As it Comes' features somebody named Paul McCartney on bass (who?), while 'Shadow Boxing' is one of Fran's best songs and easily the album's highlight. The piano line and chord progressions are just about too close for comfort, I might venture to say. Absolutely chuffin' brilliant, mate. 'Rocking Chair' is the epitome of the underlying folky aspect of this album, while the closer 'Moonshine' catches a glimpse of Fran as the melodramatic synth and drum machine pop star he so wishes to be. He even hits those excellent falsettos. Of course, it's all much too earnest to be any of what I've just said. And that's what makes it so good. My expectations for the next Travis album are officially in the stratosphere.

~Austin

What's New?: 7.27.2012

Behind as hell.  Get goin', then. . . !

Stereolab — Mars Audiac Quintet (1994)

Buzzing, warm and melodic. Yep, Stereolab does it right. I can almost equate them to being like the Cocteau Twins of the 90's, in terms of the sheer consistency and "If it ain't broke, don't fix it"-edness of their output. This is the one right after Transient and right before Emperor, to give you an idea of where it stands in the bigger picture (the answer is that it stands right between two of the early monuments — the latter of which is generally regarded as their best). Basically, the Lab sounds like they're having a hard time running out of ideas here. This album strikes me as more of a unified work in which it sounds best when played front to back. There is a bouncy little pop gem in 'Ping Pong' (which totally apes the Association in the best possible way — thanks Mark Prindle for pointing that out!). Overall, I would describe this album as a beautiful buzz of sound. Hard to not recommend it if you're already a fan.

Stereolab — The Groop Played "Space Age Batchelor Pad Music" (1993)

Typical of these guys to release such a strangely theme-oriented EP right in the midst of their strong early run. The "easy Listening" half is basically a showcase for the lead off tune 'Avant Garde M.O.R.', which is Stereolab doing the warm, mellowed out buzzy thing that they were so good at in those days. The "New Wave" half of the disc begins with 'We're Not Adult Oriented' which is a total winner, in that driving, Neu-inspired Stereolab rocker mode (it appears again in a ferocious live performance to close out the disc). In the end, just a footnote in the grand scheme of the Stereolab catalogue, but its strength just goes to testify how strong they were in these early days.

The Sauceman Brothers — The Early Days of Bluegrass, Volume 7 (1940's/early 1950's)

Part of the Rounder label's great reissue series from the late 1970's.  As this is the "early days" of bluegrass, this is still a bit more country in overall tone, just with more of a focus on banjo solos.  The playing is enviable, while the harmonies are just heavenly.  Check out 'A White Cross Marks the Grave' for an album highlight.  It's just really comforting, warm and welcoming music for me right now.  This particular album was put together with extra care, as there are no shortage of liner notes and band history written in the tiny font inside the gatefold cover (only discrepancy here is that there are no dates listed for each tune included — a minor, but slightly annoying, oversight).  There's a killer version of 'Pretty Polly' here and all of the ballads just rule.  I picked this up after reading about the half the liner note after finding it randomly in the rack at the store and figured it was worth the price tag, just based on the back story.  When I got it home, I could find next to no information on this specific record and only overview information on the band.  I've since arrived at the conclusion that it was a total goldmine find.

The Waterboys — self-titled (1983)

That EP was so good, it was only a matter of time before I rendered it obsolete in my collection.  All five of the excellent, straight from the gut, heart-tugging masterpieces from that EP are here, in varying order —although the standing highlight 'Savage Earth Heart' still appears as the closer, thankfully.  The altered track order ultimately plays in the album's favor and the three songs that were inexplicably left off the American edition are just as good as anything else (exhibits A and B).  Its soul-wrenching honesty is only outdone by Mike Scott's completely ace guitar playing and wailing —indeed, almost cackling, at times— vocal performance.  Boy, is this album good.  Strikes me as a work that could only have been created by someone in the midst of an ambitious and youthful urge to change the world through song.  Just. . . wow.  One of the best records I've caught up to in recent times.

Hank Williams — The Very Best of Hank Williams (1950's)

Lame and stupid as a budget-priced collection like this may be, when the actual music it contains is considered, you really can't do any better.  If I were rich, I'd scoff at this sort of thing, too.  But, when you're record shopping on a budget, this is a godsend.  It's easy to write Hank Williams off.  He's been copied so often and so well, that when you actually get into his music, it may sound a little cliche.  Hardly, as it were, in retrospect.  Because he was literally the first guy to do what he did.  He's basically singing the blues over a honky tonk backing.  Sounds pretty pedestrian at this point, but musically, it's just pure gold.  Stuff like 'Jambalaya' and 'I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry' has become so transcendent and so ingrained into the pop music psyche that it's hard to go back and realize just how good, and how unique, those pieces are as songs.  A sleeper favorite of mine is 'Ramblin' Man.'  Some stuff is classic for a reason.  Sorry it took me this long to catch up.

Tangerine Dream — Encore (1977)

Live cosmic-bound goodness from the Dream's spring 1977 American tour.  Although this is a two record set and each of the four sides of vinyl are just one long piece, with "new" titles, I recognize bits and passages from their studio albums of the time (the closing solo piano bit at the end of 'Monolight', for instance, is straight off of Stratosfear).  It's still just the Franke/Baumann/Froese trio, so it's from the band's artfully excellent 70's prime.  And it certainly is prime material, as just a single listen to the seven minute intro buildup of opener 'Cherokee Lane' should please any fan.  Hard to recommend as a first taste, but for the already converted, absolute gold.

Bobby Hutcherson — Highway One (1978)

Not amazing, but Bobby Hutcherson is so awesome that he was able to retain a classy post-bop sound, on a major label, in the late 1970's.  His are truly standards to aspire to.  Just oozing over with integrity and good taste, this was the first of Bobby's three late 70's albums for Columbia (the next one, Conception: The Gift of Love, is pretty good too).  The opener, and closer, 'Secrets of Love' (by George Cables) is the highlight, appearing in instrumental and vocal versions.  The title track is a cascading piece of Latin-tinged post-bop; the sort of which was Bobby's bread and butter in these years.  The tone is thoughtful and mid-tempo, retaining that vibe (no pun intended) of pure class and elegance at time when that was a downright hard thing to do in mainstream jazz.  Nothing amazing happens, but it doesn't need to.  Hardcore fans (read: myself) will find enough here to confirm why they loved him in the first place.

Miles Davis/Marcus Miller — Music from Siesta (1987)

With a dedication to Gil Evans on the cover and a Spanish word in the title, it's a no-brainer that Miles was trying to recall his classic Sketches of Spain album here.  If you can remove from your mind that Miles was just fooling himself into believing he could pull it off without Gil and just accept Marcus Miller's infatuation with backing Miles with programmed synthesizers and drum machines, it's a pretty decent 80's Miles album.  It's certainly a forgotten one, that's for sure.  'Los Feliz' is a representative moment from the score.  I've had to come to terms with 80's Miles over the past year or so, but once I let go of my hang-ups, I've found some rather decent stuff.  This album plays nicely on its own and it's definitely in the line of the great film music Miles had done previously (obviously, with more updated production sounds).  I dig it.

The Incredible String Band — The Hangman's Beautiful Daughter (1968)

Really and truly a wacky record.  Really just an impenetrable mess upon my first few listens.  Really the only thing that jumped out at me right away was the closer 'Nightfall.'  And I think that's because it's pretty much the only song on the album where the band plays a linear song.  This is magnified in the thirteen minute album centerpiece 'A Very Cellular Song.'  Easy to sit through the whole thing, just because it's actually several songs contained within one track index.  If you consider all of the change-ups and twists in the songs, what appears to be a ten song album is actually fifteen or sixteen tracks in total.  Musically, it covers just as much ground; venturing from traditional folk, to Irish textures, through America and right on through to plain old acoustic psychedelia.  A hard nut to crack, but not without its rewards.  


~Austin