Record Store Day 2011

NB: Nigel's notes will begin with N: and Ben's will begin with B:
 N: It was a miserably rainy day in Chicago this Record Store Day, the kind of day I would have liked to spend inside sipping tea and listening to records, not walking in rainy headwinds to spend all of my money in a manic frenzy. But there we were, a gang of dourly dressed men trudging down Milwaukee Avenue acting like teenagers on the first day of summer break, stopping only for more beer or to accost the random unsuspecting stranger. Here are some highlights from the days finds:

Faust, IV
N: Not the only record I picked up that I was more than familiar with, I was more or less guilted into buying this because, alas, I don’t actually own this on any format. Lucky I did, Faust IV is an undisputed classic.
B: Sounds like the Sgt. Pepper from beyond the Berlin Wall (though they’re from the West). I imagine many interesting production choices had to be made; making the vinyl well-worth the price of admission.

Panda Bear, Tomboy
B: In the spirit of Record Store Day, Tomboy is very much a two-sided record. Side A is reminiscent of MPP’s quick pacing, and almost-maybe-even choruses. Indeed a live show, included with the download, features a few MPP tracks sounding perfectly at home--relaxed even--in a Panda Bear set. Side B’s tracks are less focused, wander a bit more. Maybe it’s because we have a well-loved predecessor in Person Pitch, but the sonic environment on Tomboy generally feels less interesting, and more like a vehicle for the (undeniably beautiful) melodies. Nevertheless, the whole thing is a stunner, perhaps never more than on the amazing track “Afterburner” which would sound at home in the wistful wabi-sabi discotheque right along side....
N: “Slow Motion” still knocks me flat. It’s also worth mentioning that the B side has a looping runoff groove, meaning the record will continue to play and never end until you lift the needle, which is as cool as it is sort of annoying.

Arthur Russell, Calling Out of Context
B: Russell is so cool as to be a little on the nose: New York, Retro-Dance, Avant-garde composer. Even if you feel “over” the elements, the result is both undeniably cool, and pretty fun and welcoming. Very minimal environments--drum machine, couple synth lines, supplemental percussion and usually Russell’s cello--permeated with a voice that meanders between Bill Callahan and Aaron Neville. Like an animated corpse of disco music stalking the streets of Daydream Nation’s New York.

Box Tops I See Only Sunshine b/w Sweet Cream Ladies
N: One of a couple Box Tops singles I found at the Numero pop-up store, this one features the Alex Chilton original, I See Only Sunshine. The track features Chilton’s amazing knack for melody, you can almost hear him trying to shrug off the gruff soul singer affectation and just open up on this one.

Big Star, 3rd
N: I had to round out the Chilton collection with Big Star’s 3rd. Living up to its reputation, the album is incredibly sad, even desperate at times, filled with beautiful string arrangements and some of Chilton’s best vocal takes. His voice sounds alternately tender and ragged. This is an incredibly ambitious album, even when held next to #1 and Radio City. I wonder if that ambition comes from the desperation of being at the end of the rope as a band, or if Alex Chilton was just ready to move far away from the sound he’d already perfected over the last two releases. This might be my favorite Chilton record I’ve heard so far.
B: A power-pop apple, far from the tree. On par with Lou Reed’s Berlin for overall bleakness. Nevertheless, has some real gems both on the happily sad and the extremely forlorn ends of the spectrum.

Signals, Calls and Marches:
N: One of my favorite EPs of all time, this is by far my favorite Mission of Burma release, especially for the fist-pumping Academy Fight Song.

Eccentric Breaks and Beats
N: The only Numero release I picked up at their pop-up shop, the story behind this 12” is that the label discovered a bootleg 12” floating around filled with samples pulled from their releases. Instead of issuing a cease and desist, Numero decided to distribute it themselves. What starts off as a fairly engaging mix ends up being pretty brilliant by side 2. This isn’t really a party starter, unless the party is a small BBQ, but it is a fantastic headphones album. Also, another album with a looping runoff groove on the B side, for whatever reason. Ugly cover though.

Strangest Impulse Buy Award:
V/A- Holy Fuzz Christian Psychedelic Music (1967-1975)

Curiosity got the better of my judgement, and now I own this. Oddly enough this early artifact of “Christian Rock” is dogged by the very same things that dog the Christian Rock of Today. The songwriting is written in a self-assured second person, one who has all the answers knows exactly what you should do. The songwriting generally lacks specificity, which as we’re told in Strunk & White’s The Elements of Style is crucial to good writing. “If those who have studied the art of writing are in accord on any one point it is this: the surest way to arouse and keep the reader’s interest is by being specific, definite and concrete,” states S&W, going on to cite the book of Ecclesiastes as an example of strong writing. Contrast this with Holy Fuzz’s ninth track “Dry Ground” by the Exkursions: “Don’t lie to yourself. Take things as they are. That’s the first step in becoming a much better person by far.” Bush league stuff, Exkursions.

But then psychedelic music—Christian or otherwise—isn’t known for its lyrical acumen. You want to know how the jams am, how the grooves do, how face-melters smelter. They’re... fine, I guess. Within the psychedelic music world I’ll admit I like a bit more subtly and nuance (okay, melodious and fey) over early/harsh/heavy. This compilation is the latter for sure. I guess I was hoping for some sort of psychedelic spirituality; it’s odd that something so concerned for your soul would seem so soulless.

Hypocrite Listener vs Daftpop Mix Showdown

Ok so Anna, I think I may have overreacted a little bit.  Maybe it's my increasing boredom and annoyance with blanket hipster hatred.  This has a lot to do with working downtown with people who live on the north side who always bitch about these "stupid hipsters" who live in Logan Square and Pilsen and well, you fill in the blank.  I know, it's easy to hate them/us/the other ones that aren't us/people who live in Brooklyn/the dude from Wavves and I've had more than my share of grievances aired on this here internet.  But at the same time, this is sorta my generation, and as far as vaguely defined cultural aggregates go, I fall into that camp whether I like it or not.  And even if I don't aspire to the shifting ideals of indieness (cuz I'm already living it motherfuckas), I still love the a lot of the music these laughably dressed rich kids make.  So here it is, a brief smattering of my favorite white guys (some white girls too) with guitars (ooh, and samplers sometimes) from year 2009.

Cannibal Resource-Dirty Projectors

As far as annoying hipster baggage goes, these guys have it all.  East Coast, Ivy League, classically trained, quirky vocal strangulations, afropop guitar, Brooklyn.  But as much as the DP's are omnivorous and scattered in their influences, they're obsessively coherent in their sound.  You want your auteur, I've got him right here.  Dave Longstreth is crazy obsessed with his music, clocking in twelve hour rehearsals and touring like crazy.  It pays off, nothing they've done sounds lazy or phoned in.  Like it or not, you have to respect what they've pulled off.

Skin and Bones-Flashy Python

This is Alec Ounsworth of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah fame, playing here with some dudes from Man Man and the Walkmen in a one-- off balls to the wall rock album.  Even amongst all the "lofi/shitgaze" albums this year, nothing has sounded as raw and loose as this album. If you thought CYHSY was too twee, here's an antidote.

Laura-Girls

Oh Girls, it's so hard to love you.  This is pretty straight up nostalgia right here, but done incredibly well.  It's the bassline that finally won me over.  Also, I like this dude's voice, hiccups and all.

Walkabout-Atlas Sound feat Noah Lennox

Bradford Cox of Deerhunter + Panda Bear = Indiebro love in awesomeness.  Also, this song could just be that one sample and I'd still love it.  Did you ever listen to Deerhunter?  Cryptograms is one of my favorite albums of the decade, as is Person Pitch by Mr. Lenox.  Both of those albums restored my faith in music when they came out.  Both of these guys are pretty fascinating people as well.  I would probably most like to be friends with these guys.

Amplifier-Kurt Vile

My hero for the year, and by far my favorite new artist.  KV is refreshingly free of shtick or pretense.  He can hang with the lofi acts, but is too subtle to really be tagged as a one of those faux punx.  He played a fantastic set at the Empty Bottle, and I think he played every request, and there we quite a few, dude has three albums and an ep out, just in the last 18 months or so.

Useful Chamber-Dirty Projectors

Oh my god I love this song.  This is what I wanted the Fiery Furnaces to sound like when I heard about them, and hyperactive mixture of musical heroics except in this case, with a trajectory.  Favorite nonsensical refrain of the year, every time it comes on my body goes into spams of unadulterated joy.

While You Wait for the Others-Grizzly Bear

The other great pop hit from Veckatemist.  Like the last track, not afraid to lean heavily on the vocalese for a great build up.  Admittedly some of the album is on the boring side.  But it's neither lazy nor unoriginal.  I guess this is my argument for most of these bands, that they're hard working people who make engaging and interesting work.  And that still stands in contrast to the bulk of pop radio these days (as exciting as it can be, especially compared to say, the late 90s), specifically the set-it-and-forget-it trend of auto-tuned to death vocals over recycled beats and increasingly boring sampled material.  On a side note, "Two Weeks" features Victoria LeGrand as well (she's ooing in the background) so maybe your love of Beach House is the real culprit here.

Imagine, Pt. 3-Smith Westerns

These guys are like 19 years old or something, and they're from Chicago.  It's like Girls without all the melodrama and like any halfway decent Chicago band, I'd like them to blow the fuck up and get all the attention.  We'll see.

Silver Trembling Hands-The Flaming Lips

Ok, so as far as indie as fuck goes, this is a stretch.  But the rock press is all a tizzy about The Flaming Lips not sucking.  And, this song makes a strong point for that.

Brother Sport-Animal Collective

It's a fucking party!  No seriously.  If you take nothing else away from this, I hope you appreciate the sheer and total joy of this song.  Play it on the loudest sound system you can find.

Alright Piontek, I tried my best, it's your move.

15 albums

For no good reason other than that it's February, and I'll do anything to stay stimulated, here's 15 albums that affected me personally, changed my life, or otherwise will never be forgotten by me. In chronological order...

Unplugged in New York, Nirvana
My dad came over to my mom's house and flipped on MTV and waited until the video for Smells Like Teen Spirit came on. "I love these guys." He would have their albums on tape in constant rotation in his truck. I was sucked in. Only a couple years later, my dad would call me late at night and explain what had happened to Kurt Cobain. This was the first CD I ever owned, and with out a doubt, it is their best. It proved that they were more than just a Pixies rip-off who fell ass backwards into stardom. This is the way I remember Nirvana, and the way I remember Kurt.

Rubber Soul, The Beatles
This is an album of a good band coming into their own. The Beatles where already mega-stars that could have settled on doing Motown and Chuck Berry retreads. Here, they’re getting into Dylan, into English folk, and retooling their hit making capabilities to encompass better, smarter writing and more intricate melodies. But the album is also great for its simplicity, the kind of unbeatably succinct songs like “You Won’t See Me” or “In My Life.” It has a youthful energy that isn’t wild or sullen, but something breezy like later Beach Boys. This album will always remind me of Toronto in the summer.

Is This It, The Strokes
Early in high school, all I listened to was music from the 60's and (embarrassingly) jam bands. But I didn't fit into the neo-hippie culture of the Phish-heads. When I heard the Strokes, a light went on, and I knew I'd found my music. As much as we've all moved past them by now, I realize that the Strokes were the perfect band for a disillusioned young man. They could express the nebulous teen angst and aggression that define those years, but also be really fucking cool, and like way fucking cooler than anything else on my radar other than maybe Beck. But most importantly, they pointed me to much better bands—an alternate history of pop music. I still wish I could sing like Julian Casablancas.

The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground
Album #3, the quiet one. After hearing both of my parents casually dismiss the Strokes as a Velvet's retread, my mom pulled out a tape of this album to prove her point. "What Goes On" certainly showed me what they were talking about. But the album as a whole has so much more, and I think it gets no respect. Lou's voice sounds better here than anywhere else, and the songs are just perfect. This album also sealed the deal, and like the saying goes, I went out and joined a bad.

Slanted and Enchanted, Pavement
I own this album in two formats, yet it will never sound better than the first time I heard it blaring from Andrew Scanlan's ghetto blaster in the Mazda-that-will-never-die-323 on our way to buy a PA system for the band. Oh my god, Pavement. My life would be nothing like it is now without this record. I've never gone very long without listening to it, and I probably won’t, because there are so many memories attached to it. Andrew, Anna, Nell, Ben, sing with me now, “Ice baby, I shot your girlfriend…”

KID A/Amnesiac, Radiohead
The two are inseparable in my mind, and for a while, I actually thought Amnesiac was a better album. I can say very little about either of them that won’t be total babble. I’ve clocked maybe 11,000 hours or something listening to them. They are both better than Ok Computer, no fucking contest. Ok Computer was genius and groundbreaking and what not. But it wore its organic/synthetic beautiful/ugly pop music/art music seams in typical 90’s postmodern fashion, and sounds dated. Hear, the lines aren’t blurred, they’re completely gone. I even like the weird “KID A=first human clone” urban myth because it seems about right. But none of that matters. What matter is that every time I hear the horns come screeching in on National Anthem, I completely lose it.

Echoes, The Rapture
And to follow the greatest records of my life with the most easily forgotten…
Ok, so maybe it’s the Strokes part two in my life, my false introduction to a scene that maybe only existed for four months, maybe completely run by trust fund hipsters, maybe only in the minds of rock critics. Except that it freaks out in a way that is so subversive, so dirty, so sexy, so cool, and yet so stupid… I don’t know. It’s still the soundtrack for a perfect party in my book. It’s sad to realize that the real coked up quasi urbane kids aren’t even close to being this fun.

You Forgot it in People, Broken Social Scene
One of the most authentically romantic records you will ever hear. There are many elements to the band that can totally sidetrack them, like having a rotating lineup that incorporates dozens of musicians, a totally unchecked earnest delivery, heavy handed production, and the post rock breeding frequently leads them past the six minute mark. But when it works, it works extraordinarily well. I could fall in love with anyone within eyeshot when I listen to this.

Girls Can Tell, Spoon
One of the many breakup albums in both Spoon’s career, and in my lists of favorite albums. It’s a simple story about a guy who falls in love with a girl, moves to Chicago, leaves because he’s pursuing a rock career, gets dropped by a major label, and must now confront his failures while being surrounded memories of his youth. It’s also about men’s fashion. It’s also about two over educated, under stimulated kids from some shit hole town and the artistic/romantic obsessions they sometimes shared, sometimes fought endlessly over. It’s about their unkind imaginations. It’s about when you were 19 and still in school waiting on a light on the corner by Sound Exchange.

Daydream Nation, Sonic Youth
I thought about putting Murray Street or even Washing Machine because I thought almost everyone who likes Sonic Youth is going to name this as their favorite. But neither one is as life changing as Daydream Nation. It’s an album that deserves intellectual examination, while also defying it by sheer volume and aggression. If the album was just Teenage Riot on repeat for 45 minutes, it would still be their best.

Spiderland, Slint.
If you’ve really listened to this album the whole way through, and it didn’t in some way stick with you, if you weren’t in some small way compelled to listen to it again sometime soon—but not too soon--because it hasn’t sunk in yet, if you weren't compelled to patiently follow the insistent but subdued guitars to the very bitter but (triumphant? Fucking awesome?) end, then I don’t know what to say to you. For some people its David Lynch movies, for me, it’s this album.

This Night, Destroyer
His darkest, longest, most personal, most romantic album without a doubt. Not his best, but it’s got to be my favorite. Dan Bejar has a knack for pushing real emotion through even the most obtuse lyrics, but the ones here are actually pretty simple, and the imagery is pretty consistent. This album pulled me through a rough period of longing and self loathing. It feels like a breakup album, but one without all the bitterness, spite, and self pity. Sometimes it sounds like a love-letter, so I can’t really say what it’s supposed to be emoting. It is what it is, and it seems to be an artistic statement about that very emotion.

Early Works, Steve Reich
Steve Reich has the incredible ability to make music that is an all encompassing experience, a form of meditation that quiets your thoughts and opens your mind. And he does it without any trappings, without any tricks. His trick is transparent: set something in motion and let it play out to its end. Unlike Cage’s indeterminacy, Reich is purposeful. He’s not only concerned with the processes he puts into action (phasing, canons) but more importantly, the starting points. The nuanced chord he picks for Four Organs, the rhythms he chooses for his phase pieces, and the source of his tape works. This is what makes “Come Out” and “It’s Gonna Rain” more than just an experiment. Listen hard to the disintegration of the fiery sermon in “It’s Gonna Rain part II” and you understand that Reich has a deeply spiritual investment his work. Even though Reich has been an entry point for me into Art Music and experimental composers, I still think of him right alongside Brian Eno, Miles Davis, Sonic Youth, NEU!, Animal Collective, or J Dilla.

Cryptograms/Flourescent Grey, Deerhunter
I feel like I’m always defending this album, always explaining that the long ambient washes are just as important as the ‘songs.’ So many people will never be able to listen to this record without injecting their feelings about Bradford Cox into it. And as lauded and successful as the album and the band are, I still think this album is underrated. But the thing is, it’s a grower. If you don’t let it get under your skin, you’ll never really appreciate it. God knows where, there is a suncooked worn out tape of these records (the two come printed together as a double LP) that I listened to on repeat in a delivery van two summers ago. The hazy afternoons with the sun bleaching everything, a warm breeze coming and going, the skeletons of buildings hanging in the skyline, parking by the lakeshore just to take a break… this album was perfect.

Person Pitch, Panda Bear
I had been against the Animal Collective for a long time. I hated the ‘freak folk’ scene, I was starting to hate New York, and I hated that Animal Collective was being seen as the only ones actually pushing forward into new musical territory, I hated that this was the album of the year. And mostly, I hated good vibes. So the speed at which this album totally turned me around is amazing. The warmth and generosity, the familiarity, the timeless quality, all from an album made by some dude with a sampler. And the dude with the sampler, the guy who had music critics and other musicians frothing at the mouth with adoration, is actually a really nice guy. And the fact that I came way late to the Animal Collective party should be some sort of terrible shame on me forever in the world of music lovers. But no one gives a shit, including me, because this music trumps the fickle internet-bred sycophancy on which most bands live or die.

P-fest

Pitchfork is coming to town, and I feel like the only boy I know who's still excited. I know I'm not alone, considering Saturday is sold out. And even the detractors are still somewhat enthused. It is Pitchfork, and the festival has established a firm reputation as a good time to be had by all (unless, you're the GZA last year).

I have a couple friends who always used to be two steps ahead of me in their record collection (playlists, sure) who seem to be lost recently. And I suppose I can't blame them. This year's lineup features so many names that would have been totally unrecognizable this time last year. Which I consider to be a good thing, a very good sign for the state of independent music. And dare i say it, an identifiable 'movement'? I suppose not.

It is safe to say that noise is back firmly into the musical lexicon. And noise as in noise music per se, but the shoegaze noise, the band that is loud and not incredibly tight and or well produced noise. Which is refreshing to hear after years of taught, angular music, dance music, free/freak/neo folk, and indie stardom. Artists like No Age, Deerhunter, Panda Bear, Animal Collective, and HEALTH have a very similar aesthetic although working with different ideas towards different goals.

My friend Andrew said that African is the new angular. And as far as Vampire Weekend goes, I guess they stand outside of the noisy trend. And whatever about hype and fame, they deserve the attention they get, even if they will be forgotten in the near future.

Either way, I feel like music has become a little rougher around the edges, and thanks for that.

And Mahjongg, thank god a Chicago band is on the bill. Pitchfork can sometimes be a mixture of pride and embarrassment for someone living in Chicago. Pride in being the host, pride in being a major hub for independent music, pride in our venues and labels and history. But, then a sense that there's something missing from the fest, Chicago bands.

There are definitely some incredible bands from the area that exist today, and a long artists from the cities history. But looking at places like Montreal, New York, Portland, Atlanta, L.A., Baltimore, it's hard to hold up the Chicago scene against them. I welcome angry responses from people defending our scene of non-scene, but I know I'm not alone in this.

One of the problems seems to be a very fractured music community. There's a big jazz/experimental scene, a noise scene, drone scene, psychedelic revival scene, punk revival scene, the never dying power-pop band thing, a growing number of excellent hip-hop acts, the also never dying folk/roots scene. And, what am I bitching about right? The problem isn't a lack of talent or opportunity. The problem is (and maybe this is only a problem, in theory, in my brain, for whatever selfish reasons) that they don't seem to be communicating with each other. At all. Even counting the alliances and shared friends between these groups, I don't see them informing each other. And that's the hope of a musical scene, or discernible movement. It's not that everyone is on the same page, or doing the same thing, or going to the same shows. It's the hope that by proximity, these disparate elements could inform each other.

Proximity magazine is a new arts glossy for the Chicago area that seems to recognize this hope. And reading through it, I could see an attempt to bring together the visual arts community in Chicago for the same reasons I want a more interactive musical community. The potential is there.

I'm falling into the second city mindset, I know it.

So, in light of that, here's to Mahjongg, and the hope that they make us all proud. There certainly a band to be proud about. A band that combines some of the best aspects of Chicago music, pretty effortlessly, while remaining entirely singular. And they're (psychogeographically, if not actually geographically) southsiders, which makes me proud.

Here's to good music, here's to Chicago, here's to summer.