April Skies

from the LP From the Ashes of Electric Elves, Jackpine Social Club Records, 2003



First week back of the new semester, and my head is a spinnin’ like always… students often fail to realize that our brains are in the clouds just as much as theirs are these first few days back after the break, it’s true. Right now it is snowing like a motherfucker outside: low visibility, yard disappearing into a blanket of snowy ash, kashing bowls at the computer, you know the deal… Yes, I fully realize that the vibe of this song is pertaining to the sky in Spring, but it’s so wet beyond the window right now, and the snow is falling at the perfect velocity, so it just feels right. Oranger hails from the Bay Area, and the vibe of that city has definitely imprinted itself onto their brand of whimsical psych-tinged indie rock, pulling off reasonably difficult 3-part harmonies with seeming ease, adding depth to a sound that could easily sound flimsy or shambling in the wrong hands; instead, they successfully whisk the listener away with them, drifting along blithely into a kaleidoscopic swirl of guitars & keys…Oranger indeed, dig it!

I (Fuck) Mountains

from the LP The Pink Mountaintops, Jagjaguwar Records, 2004



Stephen McBean’s other band, Black Mountain, have never delivered for me on the promise that such a monolithic name carries with it (too much focus on a musical image, in my humble opinion), so when I was told by a friend about this album of his other stuff under the moniker of Pink Mountaintops, I was somewhat skeptical. Happily, it was surprisingly good, and where his other project comes off somewhat contrived, these songs really evolve organically. This particular song hits the nail on the head for me: lightly tribal percussion, cyclical bassline, gentle guitar, and mysterious lyrics (“…I fuck fire, and I, I fuck rain; if I had my chance, I’d get down again…but the A-bombs are comin’, oh oh, the A-bombs are comin’…”), coming together to create its own little drugged-out scene, sounding as if the Brian Jonestown Massacre went krautrock, or if Zeppelin’s “No Quarter” & Janes’ “Slow Divers” had a baby. Dig it.

Rosebuds

from the LP The Hollywood Recordings, Babygrande Records, 2007



“…sprinkle some cosmic dust baby…” What would happen if Ali Shaheed Muhammad came to meet George Clinton & D’Angelo out at Prince’s summer pad on Neptune? Apart from some philosophizing, toking & pontificating (respectively), one could be relatively sure that the beats would come fresh enough to keep everybody warm---well, L.A. underground superheroes, the Sa-Ra Creative Partners, seem to mine the heady depths in pursuit of a fitting soundtrack for said encounter, employing all manner of skronking electronics and soothingly lusty touches in order to bring the funk, proper. It’s a difficult balance, to sound both polished and organic at the same time, but these cats make that intricate contrast work to their advantage, never too clean & never too skeezy; admittedly, they don’t reach the dizzying heights found in this sizzling cut all across the album, “…but can y’all niggas get down though…?” Indeed, they can.

Walking On A Dream (Treasure Fingers Remix)

from the CD Walking On A Dream, Astralwerks Records, 2009



Yes, this is absolutely some major peak-time, mid-summer, hands in the air type of shit, but I forgot to post it last summer, and then again this summer (d’oh); no worries though, because this remix, care of the incredible Atlanta-based Treasure Fingers, bumps like a motherfucker, so we can enjoy this groove all year round. Banging four-to-the-floor beats, windchimes, handclaps, and that bouncing Madonna-esque synthline all make for an awfully habit-forming song. Admittedly, the art on Empire of the Sun’s full length LP looks like Adam & the Ants meets Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon in Never-Never Land, and the lyrics are total cheese (i.e. “…all we got is tonight, that is right, ‘til first light…is it real now, when two people become one; I can feel it, when two people become one…”), but no worries, these guys are just having fun---check out the music video for the original version of this track on youtube for more proof of that (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMJjF4LHOkY&ob=av2n). I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the Aussie music scene is clearly one of the healthiest in the world right now, and there seems to be no stop in sight.

Four Corners

from the LP One Bedroom, Thrill Jockey Records, 2003



Following along with the theme above is one of my all-time favorite crews, The Sea & Cake (yes, it sounds like you are saying “the ‘C’ in cake” when it’s verbalized, and yes, it’s intended, re: Gastr del Sol’s song of the same name), something of a post-rock supergroup who counts John McEntire (brain of Tortoise) as their drummer, along with other Chicago area rock nerds like Sam Prekop (Shrimp Boat) and Archer Prewitt (the Coctails). These guys likely consider post-Bitches Brew Miles Davis as an equal influence to bands like NEU! or early Kraftwerk, but some tracks really belie their love for krautrock more than others, and this is one of ‘em; shit, they get so lost in the dreamy wonderland of opening bridges that they don’t even get around to singing a word until about 3 minutes into the song, but how about those sick-ass breaks!?! Where NEU! comes across like a car firmly attached to the ground, these guys’ penchant for synthtastic madness leaves the impression of flying through outer space…

Cosmovital Force

from the LP Zomes, Holy Mountain Records, 2008



You wouldn’t be out of line for thinking that this project was yet another lo-fi basement tape experiment from some young buck born in the last couple of decades, but you’d be dead wrong, as this dreamy slice of backwards looped madness is the work of none other than guitarist Asa Osbourne, long-time stalwart of the east coast underground (in the ‘80s with band Reptile House, and through the ‘90s with post-hardcore poster children, Lungfish); to be perfectly honest, when I first heard this album and was told that it was somebody from Lungfish, I would’ve bet money on it having been Daniel Higgs, but I was wrong too. The only comparisons I can really draw are perhaps mid-career GBV on downers, or maybe Olivia Tremor Control after hauling a tank of nitrous into the studio and letting it roll---in as much as it takes my mind away to the same drifty place, I’d have to include Bibio on that list as well. Nothing to write home about I suppose, but the balmy textures Osbourne wheedles from his guitar continue to keep me sated; another “wake-n-bake along with the rising sun” kind of track if there ever was one.

(My Funk Goes) On & On

from the LP Toeachizown, Stones Throw Records, 2009



“I embrace the younger & the older generations… I consider myself to be an analogue futurist, if you will…the spirit is what you’re after, not the minutiae…” (from a 2010 interview) ZAPP attack, fool!!! Fresh like that bar of lemongrass soap some rasta just sold you at the farmer’s market, and hot like a basket of deep-fried pickle chips, Damon ‘Dâm Funk’ Riddick fashions funky templates so fly you almost forget how bad most popular music blows these days; for real, to enjoy his 5xLP debut Toeachizown is akin to eating a foot-long chili cheese dog, made with some Nathan’s Famous love, and washing that down behind a side of tater-tots and strawberry lime-ade (yes, I’ve been hitting up the Sonic a lot lately, so what?!). By that, I mean that his tunes go down easy, but they are filling, both for your mind & body--- homeboy is making an effort to educate people on the finer things in life, like vibing with the life-force, and synthesizers of all shapes and sizes. We are living in the middle of some strange-ass times people, a transition to be sure, so it’s reassuring to know the world has people like Damon to spread the love!

The W.A.N.D.

from the LP At War with the Mystics, Warner Bros. Records, 2006



Part of being a good entertainer is knowing what your audience digs, what they hate, what will make them smile & what really makes them grooooove; well, it’s no secret that Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne has got that part of the equation completely figured out, so much so that recent tours of theirs have resembled a lysergic circus as much as a rock concert (I realize this is a point of contention for some---get over it, have some fun). I’ve always been very “hit or miss” when it comes to the Lips discography, tending to lean towards the early indie stuff more than the last decade or so of orchestral madness, but when they do hit it for me, it hits hard. Knowing that Coyne famously roomed with one of Texas’ larger LSD chemists for a while back in the day makes me wonder if their gradual evolution, from abrasive punks to cartoon-like anti-paranoia superheroes, has had less to do with getting recognized than it has with keeping an acid-damaged mind happy and far from the heebie-jeebies. Whatever the raison d'être, I was totally blown away by their presentation a few summers ago when they shared a bill with Ween at Red Rocks (note: it took the stage crew longer to clean up the Lips’ mess than it took to assemble Ween’s entire set): opening with “Bohemian Rhapsody”, the confetti cannons, the giant hands (which, incidentally, is what your extremities start to feel like when you’ve been using ketamine a lot…), the dancing aliens & santa clauses, and closing with a cover of “War Pigs” while images of Bush, Cheny, Condoleeza, et al. flashed continuously on the screen behind them---all of the above tricks pointing to a truly cagey performer, which at least partially explains their place as one of the strangest and longest-running alt-rock bands still in existence.

The State of the Union

from the LP The Richest Man in Babylon, 18^th St. Lounge Music Records, 2002



This “holiday” always leaves me with mixed feelings: sure, I am very thankful for having grown up in America, as it’s among a small handful on countries on Earth where I could have had the opportunities that living here has afforded me---but, I can’t help wondering what Native Americans must think of this weekend’s festivities, particularly considering that when America defeated the Brits in the Revolutionary War (1775 – 1783), indigenous people still comprised the majority population & held the overwhelming majority of land rites in what we today call the United States. I believe strongly in the opportunity such a diverse nation presents to its populous, but it’s vital to consider the whole picture when celebrating our existence, which includes success at the expense of many human beings---a pattern which is still flourishing to this day I’m afraid, “…the people live in misery, govemment a work, but govemment them is a mockery; respect to the youths, whether in front and all dem back a me, why don't you treat them the way you should… broadcasting lies on the television screen, trying to get us hooked on your American dream, we up on your games if you know what me mean…” If I had one national wish granted to me on this day, it would be for every boy & girl in the United States to have a college education that’s provided to them at no charge; freedom ain’t free, arm your minds, happy July 4^th…

Strangers in the Wind

from the LP In Ghost Colours, Modular Recordings, 2008



Where Neon Indian merely channeled the ghosts of Fleetwood Mac in his “Should Have Taken Acid With You”, Aussie chill-out gurus Cut Copy manage to completely re-interpret “Gypsy” on this standout cut from their second longplayer, taking the best accouterments that new wave & yacht rock have to offer and baking them into a cloud-like soufflé, like washing a couple Somas down with a spliff and a mimosa, then going for a walk on a breezy, sunny Colorado day…or so I’ve heard (eternal love to my “stoned mimosa Saturdays” crew). The gap between their first LP and this one was a grueling four years, but if waiting means they will keep the quality level as high as it’s been in the past, I’m willing to wait; although, just two years out, I’ve played this album to death and could sure use a 7” or something to tide me over… Toss us a bone mates!

Starlighter

from the 12” single, Endless Summer Recordings, 2009

Nantes may initially seem an unlikely locale to foster one of the biggest chill-wave scenes on the globe, but anyone who grew up near the water won’t be terribly surprised when you do a Google Maps search of Nantes and find that it sits upon the mouth of an inland waterway from the Atlantic Ocean---there is something about a large body of water that lends itself to this song’s sense of abandon, the debut 12” from Valerie collective duo Jupiter (Quarles Baseden and Amélie de Bosredon). While I admit that the cheese factor here rides a fine line, it’s got just enough drive in the pocket to keep things minty fresh instead of sugary sweet; where Sally Shapiro edges towards the trance end of the spectrum, Jupiter strays determinedly in the direction of ‘80s italo and post-disco, tossing us a warm bone from the humid French coast. Truly, when considering the universally breezy nature of this track, the name of the record label in question couldn’t be more accurate. Vive Valerie!!!

Age Old Blue

from the LP To Be Still, Fargo Records, 2009



This colossal mess down in the Gulf of Mexico is unfolding to become both a significantly larger hindrance & tougher challenge to solve than was first sold to us…big fucking surprise. The visions of shit-streaked estuaries and decimated coastlines are only part of the story however, as the entire fishing industry in that area has essentially been put on an indefinite hold until it’s determined exactly how toxic this sludge is going to make living things in the gulf; to families that have seen generations of their ancestors make a living in this way, the idea of having to figure something else out is literally unfathomable, “…higher hills do not provide for hearts born of coral and moss…he’s left a deep desire for a home beside the water…and that voice is never still, you know a voice is never still…” I cannot understate the level to which I am helplessly enraptured by the smoky voice & minor-chords of Alela Diane! Let's hope we actually learn from this spill...

Final Stretch

from the CD Bright Channel, Flight Approved Records, 2004



At my age, when I go to a show I typically expect that most opening acts (particularly of the local variety) will mostly suck, and I’ll be damned if that hasn’t often held true at concerts across this glorious nation, for decades; that’s why my pal & I were taken by complete surprise upon witnessing Bright Channel’s opening set for Dinosaur Jr. in Boulder a few years back. There we were, readying ourselves for bottom of the barrel suckage, nursing a pint of Guiness and wondering what non sequitur paths of shouted conversation would ensue during the opening set, when suddenly---WHAM, the thundering steely rhythm section of Shannon Stein on bass & Brain Banks on drums literally almost made me spit out my sip of stout. Indeed, these individuals were not fucking around, and both my friend and I exchanged bewildered glances followed by a heartfelt “fuck yea!” in unison, leaving us freed from our pessimistic expectations and liberated to cut loose (see: chugging said beer and rocking out). Bright Channel preceded the shoegazer revival by a few years, so it wasn’t surprising when I learned that none other than Steve Albini himself helmed the boards for this album. The lyrics are cryptic as fuck, matching well with the edging-towards sinister vibe their sound espouses, “…empty structures touch the sky, shiny new castles made of mirrors; it's more than just a fantasy, this is the end staring patiently…”

Pi

from the LP Madvillainy 2: The Remix Album, Stones Throw Records, 2008



Being sociologically minded, I tend to focus more on the patterns that exist around us, but sometimes those exceptions to the rule prove impossible to ignore--- beats-smith Madlib and rapper MF Doom (both of whom I’ve already covered here in the Honeypot) contain exactly that kind of magnetic immunity from the barren wasteland which is modern hip-hop. I remember when this collaboration first leaked out to the underground press, and it made perfect sense: 2 coasts, 2 histories, but a similar push towards all things different and, above all else, the headiest of the heady. Madlib helps the idea deliver twice here, but you know me, “…the hashish fiend, he just came from over there, the grass is greener…”, my views on the beats are herbally biased.

I Don't Wanna Go There

from the LP Farm, Jagjaguwar Records, 2009



When one considers these dire economic times matched with the increasing market takeover by digitized music, it’s refreshing as fuck to see the sun shining on the world of LPs; when stores are opening up that only sell vinyl---no CDs man, just the black wax---that’s a good sign. Shit, even Target and Walmart are selling record players now, so you know they’re moving units! What’s even more incredible is seeing how the heady, grungy local music store has wound up outlasting the corporate behemoths (ala Tower or Virgin Records), and to a large degree that’s on account of vinyl sales; case in point, I went down to Twist & Shout yesterday and dropped over $100 on records without even making it past the letter ‘N’ in the "NEW RELEASES ROCK" stacks, and the portion of their space that’s dedicated to CDs continues to shrink with each passing month it seems. As was the case with this LP, many bands include coupons or links for free computer downloads of the album’s mp3s, completely removing any lingering reason for the consumer to buy a CD. Bloody brilliant I tell you! This offering from the reformed Dino Jr. blew my mind last year, and duly proved that, indeed, sometimes (albeit, rarely) a reunited band really does have more to say; in fact, it’s as if they never broke up in the first place, with this coming across like the true successor to 1988’s Bug. And how ‘bout that cover art?!!!

Dopethrone

from the LP Dopethrone, Rise Above Records, 2000



Remember when you were first getting high, long before the days of glass pieces, and if we weren’t smoking a joint we all smoked from the same generic metal pipe: the basic 3 part screw-jobs of bowl, elbow, and mouthpiece. That pipe’s design, and the fact that we were young (often broke) stoners spending the last dimes of our lunch money on weed, encouraged the skill-building of what some lovingly refer to as “bowl-scrapage”---the art of extracting as much of the tarry sludge-like resin as possible from inside of metal pipes. We all knew that one guy or girl who, given the proper tool set to work with (which often contained everyday objects like paper clips, keys, and those medical scissors worked especially well), could take a used pipe and wind up an hour or two later with a bulbous near-black globule of leftover stankness the size of a fucking strawberry; I knew one kid that kept resin balls in his freezer, planning ahead for times of severe drought. Electric Wizard IS the whole musical embodiment of that resin (and the couchlock buzz that followed)!! If Black Sabbath is heavy like elements Lead or Mercury, Electric Wizard’s brand of heart-stopping stoner doom falls right around the Osmium end of the periodic pool, slowing the pace to that of tree sap & down-tuning the bass & guitars to such extraordinarily low timbres that the sound waves almost get stuck in one’s throat; they obviously use Ozzy & co. as a template, but arguably out-Sabbath the originators themselves, by leagues actually. Be afraid, be very afraid…and very stoned.

Living in a Magazine (remix)

from the 12” single, Wall Of Sound Records, 2001



Fittingly enough, this track first came to me care of a freebie CD included with Mojo magazine, and its trancelike new wave attack has never let go of me---I admit, being a nerd sociologist makes me more inclined to connect with this song’s title (many varying post-modern realities encased in that one), but the music holds up, and Paper Faces do a phenomenal job with the remix here, sounding almost like a mashup of Daft Punk & early New Order (that bassline could easily be one of Peter Hooks). I’m an accomplished magazine whore, which I rationalize by continuing to read challenging novels as well, but there really are some top publications still kicking around that give me hours of shameless, page-turning satisfaction, even amidst all the horribly vapid crap: Wax Poetics, Mojo, Wallpaper, Dazed, Anthem, and others as well. Zoot Woman crafted a real winner here, and their early releases have surely served as inspiration to the current crop of chill-wave acts.

Cut Out to FL

from the LP Deadringer, Definitive Jux Records, 2002



Florida is truly the inverted armpit of our nation (a quick perusal of our country’s more disturbing news stories will give you some indication, and watching the movie Bully will give you even more); I spent my whole youth growing up there, in a few different locales, and I can most assuredly attest to that fact---hell, I was joyfully a part of the problem previous to my departures. The scum of this entire fucking country eventually washes up down in Florida, as if there is some gigantic magnet for arrest warrants & bullshit under the ground that literally lures the hustlers, addicts, fools, & evil motherfuckers down south. That’s why the little vocal sample at the beginning of this track is so friggin’ appropriate, and one can scarcely imagine how many similar conversations and trains of thought wind up at that same conclusion every day. Sadly, it’s the same reason a lot of individuals wind up getting themselves killed down there. RJ ‘D2’ Krohn came up DJing in Columbus, Ohio and I saw him spin at a few parties around there in the ‘90s when I was living in Cleveland, long before he signed with Def Jux---I don’t think many ravers, including myself, had any clue what was in the works for this cat’s career. The comparisons to Shadow & Cam are fair, but RJ has his own vibe, more soul than funk maybe, like the Otis Redding to their Jimmy Castor Bunch, dig? Watch for the smooth switch-up around two minutes in, categorically seamless!