Daily Archives: July 23, 2010

by jms | July 23, 2010 · 5:36 pm

John Vs. “The Smithsonian Institute Blues (or The Big Dig)” by Captain Beefheart

I think any good movement adopts a song to go with it, and I’m thinking of starting a movement. An anti-retro movement.

Earlier this week, in conversation with a friend over Pere Ubu and how fucking great they are, this friend expressed surprise that I listened to anything that came out before I was born. Thought-provoking. I’ve amassed a decent amount of music from the 40s on, but it’s apparently odd to consider the thought of me listening to anything old. Well, I know exactly why that is; it’s because I only recommend newer music, and because I actively shit on music that tries to act like old 70s jams.

What I want to talk about today is the start of anti-retro, and the retro song we’re going to use to shit on the Black Keys of the world, who have taken their wanking material and shown it to earth like they’re so proud of what they can do. All the Black Keys comes down to is an old cummy rag taken with a digital camera, and they’re not the only act rushing to photobucket with the slick socks they grabbed from their dad’s dresser. Something has to be done.

Captain Beefheart is one of those figures that these shitheads claim to like, understand, want to emulate, et cetera. The reality of the situation is that they say that to try and convince themselves that his desert breakdowns have relevance to them in the year 2010. They don’t. However timeless the music may seem, it’s ultimately rooted in that origin, and it’s aging more and more every day.

The issue I have is not the act of listening to old music. It does have what it has to say, and there are certainly little points of interest. Where we start pissing me the fuck off is when you don’t take a look around in the world you live in and just go deeper and deeper into this old cult. Here’s reality: If music is a living thing, that music is dead. It’s had a good life and it’d probably be happy to know they were remembered, but they can’t know, because they’re fucking dead, and the fucking dead’s time has passed.

So I say we repurpose “The Smithsonian Institute Blues” as a fucking bile-filled shout at these “old is new” doofuses. It’s a caveman stomp that sounds like the shit they wish they were making. Now their only connection to that music are museums and archives of music. It’s not happening. They can dig through old record after old record, but the fact remains that it’s dead music, old bones they’re dragging up. So if you see someone you know digging up some bone and their gym sock, swat both down and tell them that it’s just fucking old bones and they should really look around the world they’re in right now.

WINNER: John

WHY: Because 2010 is the year you are alive in, not 1970.

disclaimer: Jon Spencer Blues Explosion is off the hook.

Matt Vs. “Manners” by Passion Pit

Passion Pit has always astounded me with their unabashed, catchy synth-pop. I like “Manners” for the same reason I liked “Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix:” While each song can be too consistent with each other, it still manages to work and feel fresh even though track 3 is the same as track 2.

“Manners” is hard for me to talk about. There isn’t a lot I can say about it besides that it makes me want to… dance? I don’t know — each song is full of hooks carefully constructed to keep you around. As a song goes on you can’t help but make it to the end every time because it wont let you go away. For one minute the synth and the bass are creating a tastefully addictive melody that entrances you. Soon, before you get the chance to get bored of the sound, it flips right into a new hook further pulling you in. It’s pop music. It’s not complicated. But it’s tricking you into thinking that it is.

There’s no shame in how dance-y this album is. It’s fun to listen to. It’s one of those albums that I like to listen to when I want to stop thinking hard about stuff. Turn your brain off and fall into the sweet bliss that is the sound of “Manners.” In a world where everything has to be artsy, or have some kind of meaning, Passion Pit is mindless enjoyment. Sure, I think Michael Angelakos (Lead Singer) is saying something in his songs – I think “The Reeling” is about homelessness. But, frankly, I’m more mystified by the sound of his voice to pay that much attention to the words.

That’s another thing that I love about “Manners.” Angelakos’ voice, while at first can be jarring, works with the style they have going on. His falsetto technique matches itself well with the overly-happy bliss-pop. It’s the same as the upbeat sound that accompanies it — all working together in harmony with one goal in mind: To make you happy. It’s just too bad Angelakos can’t actually keep up his vocal technique in their live shows.

A lot of people I know have only listened to “Sleepyhead.” And I have to say to anyone who hasn’t gone beyond that, you’re missing out. If you like “Sleepyhead” to any degree, I guarantee that you’ll love every single track on “Manners.” The album is full of songs that trump “Sleepyhead” in so many ways. Songs like “Eyes As Candles” or “Little Secrets.” In comparison “Sleepyhead” is the worst song on the album, which is saying a lot because it’s still an amazing track.

WINNER: “Manners” by Passion Pit

WHY: It’s simple, and that’s probably why it’s so refreshing. Pure audio bliss.

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by Matt | July 23, 2010 · 8:55 am

Matt Vs. “Never Better” by P.O.S

One thing that always deters me from listening to certain hip-hop or rap songs is that they can sound too artificial. If you’ve listened to enough mainstream stuff, then you’re probably familiar with what I’m talking about. You know, loops and beats made in Fruity Loops or Garageband, all that bullshit. We’ve heard it so many times before. And, believe me, it’s really fucking boring.

P.O.S is the remedy for that. This album is infected with his hardcore punk rock background. Every song is complete and utter chaos. Live drums, distorted guitars, and a loud black man screaming into your headphones. There’s a sense of rawness that moves throughout the entire album. P.O.S doesn’t like to do second takes. Fuck no. If someone messes up a line, he’s not going to do what normal people do and re-record it. He’s leaving that shit in. Some tracks will start off with P.O.S talking to some people in the studio, or clearing his throat. Sometimes he’ll stop a verse and begin to laugh uncontrollably. All of this adds to that “we don’t give a fuck” punk lifestyle that P.O.S is known for.

“Get Smokes,” possibly the best song on “Never Better”, exemplifies that idea. The song starts as what can only be described as a noisy blur. The distorted guitars are blending together to the point where they’re indistinguishable from each other, there’s a crazy-ass spring sound on top of that. Plus, horns (you always need horns). All of them mashing together, kicking you in the fucking face, calling you a pansy, and giving you the name “Abygale”. It’s abuse, but you’re going to love it.

“Never Better,” and P.O.S as a whole, is truly “rap to skateboard to.” It’s an album that bridges the gap between genres to make a beautiful fusion of rhyme and rock. I’m not even sure that made any sense. That’s how awesome this album is, god damn it.

WINNER: “Never Better” by P.O.S

WHY: For showing Matt the fist, knocking him on his ass, and making him like it.

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by jms | July 23, 2010 · 6:27 am

John Vs. “Dub Housing” by Pere Ubu

Let’s talk about albums as a whole for a second. Talk about what an album implies to me, just so we can establish a common vocabulary and an understanding of what I mean when I say album. Music is alive, I believe. Music is a living, breathing thing. An album can represent any living being and can transform along with you as time passes. It would be easy, then, to understand an album as a person, and a song as a conversation. It’s a helpful way for me to understand music.

Here’s my point: if albums are people, then one can have relationships with albums. Maybe not in depth relationships with every album you ever hear, but there are certainly some that are going to have long lasting effects on each other. The first two Pere Ubu albums are two of my closer friends, and they’ve been mentors for me. “Dub Housing,” the second one, is a thickskinned old soul, is a free thing as much as it can be without losing all semblance of sanity, and is the host to ten of the most interesting conversations I’ve ever had.

The album actually reminds me of an old high school friend in that way. Earth happened around them, and they just chose to take the bits and pieces of it that they were interested in. “Dub Housing” is a collage of a cityscape glued to a proud alley cat. Certainly aware of how pop is supposed to work, how the world is supposed to work, but disinterested in favor of it’s own little continuum.

It’s an album that could resonate very powerfully these days, given the exclusive tendencies of referential humor and in jokes, of self-constructed worlds. What Pere Ubu built here is a fearsome act of western individualism built with second hand tools and no manual.

WINNER: “Dub Housing” by Pere Ubu

WHY: Timeless, hostile, and otherworldly in the ways rock ought be. Have “On The Surface,” but know that the album is a snake pit that’ll get stranger further inside.