Fog Light

Hey gang!


I know, it's been a while, but sometimes that's just how it goes. I feel bad about that, but hey - what can you do?


I've got some things planned, a couple larger pieces in the pipes, but they're not finished and another's just starting. I also started a tumblr, because I like to both post inane Pop Art and overextend myself. In the meantime, I'll try to drop some things here that I've really been digging. There's never a shortage of new stuff for me to paw through, it's just a matter of what stands out from the pile. 


For example! The Wombats - you guys heard of them?

They're great. I totally was not on board for this Liverpool trio. Missed the boat, if you will. However, hearing their single 'Jump Into the Fog' was enough to shake me from my moorings. It's a brilliant piece of weird pop music that shifts and slinks into your head with fantastic synthesizers. 

Released off of their album This Modern Glitch earlier this year, this single sounds both old and new. It seems to possess that unassailable British swagger that bleeds cool, yet plays it so nonchalant despite this. The single possesses these odd tones that almost feel eerie and morbid. They play so well with the bright, poppy bass running beneath the verses, though. The hook is something that calls back to the 90s alt rock scene in the most British way, like I said.

It's just such an odd song, but I can't help but love 'Jump Into the Fog'. This is just one of the things I've been tripping myself over, as of late. I'm aiming to be updating a little more often going forward, so keep an eye peeled, kids.

Shot

Aw man.


It's always hard to go from vacation mode to work mode. Being a Midwesterner, it was a shock to my system to see so much sun during December, even if it was barely a week. Getting up and going in the total dark, only to return home in said dark, is a wearing task. It forces you to look for solace and comfort in the sunny, exuberant things you wouldn't normally turn to. 

For me, there was relief in digging out an old standard from the oddball days of the alternative 90s. Blasting 'Cannonball' by The Breeders gave me an awesome distraction from the bleak, oppressive and never ending darkness. Also, it's a punchy pop song that may have been cutting edge 20 years ago. Now it just seems like a bit of hipster power-pop. Curse you, ravages of time! 

Screw it. For a year now, I've been realizing, bit by bit, that I have an extreme fondness for all things early 90s. Some of it is so widespread and general that it becomes too hard to connect the dots. Other times, there is a distinct pattern that emerges. I feel like this song, with the loopy bass and clean guitar lick that builds to a wall of distortion, is right in that wheelhouse of songs that stand out as codifiers of the period. All the more amazing is that fact that this legend of alt rock was (at a time) comprised of former Pixie Kim Deal and her sister Kelley. It seems like it wouldn't be fair or possible for someone to make more excellent music after being in such an influential band as The Pixies. We got lucky, apparently.

Look, you think 90s alt rock, you think this song. Probably some Doc Martens in there, and a wacky montage of Gen X-ers painting the camera and doing wacky, ironic things. Sort of a genetic precursor to hipsters. Fitting, then, that this fantastic song would fit in so well in a similarly jaded playlist. Who cares, I love it. Gets me through a dark night to the weekend on the other side.

Game Off

Heyooo.


So that's it for me. The holidays are wrapping up. I'm heading back home after visiting the in laws in their homestead. They've been great hosts and I've had a lot of fun, including an epic round of charades. There's been a plethora of good food with a slew of fresh things for me to read, enjoy and review. In the meantime, while I gear up for tomorrows flight, let me tell you about something fantastic you may have missed.

I didn't have a specific introduction to Lana Del Ray. I was simply driving through uptown, getting ready for the big move I recently endured and listening to The Current on 89.3. A song came on by a young chanteuse that possessed, as the singer chides herself, a certain "gangster Nancy Sinatra" aesthetic. The somber, haunting tune had the young woman moaning and groaning over an idealized but less than perfect vision of love that she was enduring, as chronicled in the track 'Video Games'.

This song kind of caught me off guard. The way Del Ray almost sleepwalks through it gives an air of otherworldly kind of old-timey sadness and melancholy. It can kind of kill a raucous mood if you hear it at the wrong time, but when your own mindset syncs up with this piano-driven number it's solid gold.

'Video Games' is the lead-in to Lana Del Ray's soon to be released debut album. Here's hoping the rest of what she has to offer is just as fresh and moving. I don't care if it all varies from this killer track, I just want the same world weary sound.

High Pitched Noises

Yo.


Xmas Xceptions. Let's do this.


How about a thing that revamps a classic? Sound good? Cool. This may not curry favor with some readers, but I actually am a sucker for the Chipmunks song 'Christmas Don't Be Late'. I don't even know how this happened, to be honest. I think it just happened to be on a holiday collection my mom had and I picked it up through osmosis. My brothers and I used to have a good laugh over how ridiculous it was. Somehow it grew on me and now I find myself singing along when that insipid piece of strangeness, made by one guy back in 1958, comes on the radio. What makes it more palatable is an equally obscure cover of the novelty song by Powder, a long-dissolved Britpop band.

Powder only existed for a few years in the mid 90s, releasing a handful of singles before throwing in the towel. At some point during their brief existence they cut a heavy, melodic (and substantially less cloying) version of 'Christmas Don't Be Late'. Featuring Pearl Lowe's lush vocals, the song became a more relatable, plausible holiday song when re-contextualized. Now instead of pitch-shifted (actually just sped-up) one-man harmonies, it was a heavy, rocking version featuring fully fuzzed, bloated bass lines and the occasional squealing guitar lead. Actually, when they get to the hula-hoop line, it's pretty damn catchy. 

I only came upon this version of the song years after the fact, first as a bit of a guilty pleasure. Now, though, I don't like to think of things I like as guilty pleasures. I just like to own up to what I dig, including an oddball revamp of an oddball song. Sure, call it cutesy or not relevant, but it's a damn sight better than hearing the same 15 or so Christmas songs ad nauseum. Give it a spin and see if it doesn't add a little fresh air to your Xmas Xceptions. Less rodents this season, more guitars.

Oi Noise

Grumble, grumble, grumble.


My countdown of Xmas Xceptions got off to a negative start, didn't it? How's about we flip that business right on its head? Sound good? Cool, we're gonna get a little manic positivity in today's post. Coming at you from the late 90s benefit compilation, A Very Special Christmas 3, it's The Vandals' 'Oi to the World', as covered by No Doubt.

I used to love this compilation. There was a holiday season that was full to the brim with my brothers and myself jamming out to the likes of Smashing Pumpkins, Blues Traveler and Run DMC as we made our shopping runs and trips to elderly relatives. Tons of fresh takes on the old standards that were actually fun to listen to, at least back in the 90s. Good gravy am I dating myself. Anyway, one of my favorite tracks on this compilation, despite Craig's protests, was the frenetic and exuberance No Doubt cover of 'Oi to the World'.

Don't get me wrong - I love me some Vandals. Funnily enough it was my younger brother that turned me on to the legends of punk. Still, the clean, horn-infused mania of No Doubt interpreting the tale of gang rivalry totally sold the story to me. In it, we have a gritty, grimy tale of inner city punks and skinheads trying to settle their rivalry in a bloody rumble on Christmas day. Men are left beaten and broken in the gutter when a miracle happens and peace breaks out between the tribes. Gwen Stefani bleats out the tune in typical, joyous fashion. The band embraces the upbeat tone with abandon. The festive horn breakdown in the middle is unabashedly corny and awesome.

I love this song, even if it defies the holiday convention. No, scratch that - I love it because it does. It's violent and manic, intense and irreverent. The harmonies on the chorus are insane. It's unabashedly sincere, to the horror of jaded hipsters everywhere. It's the kind of thing you don't hear on the holiday station, to say the least. Need some Xmas Xuberance? Look no further.

Homeward Bound

Here we go, kids!


I mentioned something I had up my sleeve - I decided to sneak in one last themed series before the year is out. The theme, this time around? Things about the holidays that aren't insanely cloying and overdone. Things that don't adhere to the rule of making you want to bash you head in when you're forced to endure them in shopping malls. Strap in, kids. We're gonna take a look at the 12 Xmas Xceptions. First on the list? Something cynical.

I may not be the hugest fan of Blink 182 these days, but I sure used to have a soft spot for them. You get older, your tastes change. Duran Duran weren't made into mega stars by hipsters and adults - it was teens with disposable cash and incessant radios. Point being, I listened to a lot of melodic punk in high school, and I loved me some Blink. They were super catchy and accessible and irreverent, back in a more innocent time before domestic terrorism, three wars and an endless election cycle. Justification? Maybe. But I still like their holiday song 'I Won't Be Home for Christmas'. It's cynical and  passively aggresive in that "just leave me alone" sense. Perfect for the Xmas Xceptions!

Back when I first got into the band, they didn't have a huge catalogue and tons of airplay. You had to make do with what you had, which was pretty much their first two (secret best) albums and possibly some bootlegs if you could find them. I listened to them to death, waiting for more stuff to come out. When I heard about a holiday single, I was baffled. Even more so when I actually heard it on the radio. It was awesome, but infuriating - how was I supposed to track it down when it was in limited pressing and barely in any music rotation? It wasn't until years later, and some widespread commercial breakthroughs, that I heard it with any regularity. Once I got into the mp3 scene I tracked it down. It still is a staple in my custom Xmas playlists.

It's catchy, it's snarky, it's everything you'd expect from Blink in a holiday single. Major-key riffs. Palm-muted guitars. A half-time chorus. Tales of emotional distress culminating in being sent to jail and violated by cellmates. Plus, there's chimes and bells! It's good, old Xmas fun, minus the cloying, heartwarming tone. Sometimes you want to skip the festivities and ditch the obligations. We all want a night to ourselves, now and then, even around the holidays. I get it. We're just getting started, gang. Eleven more Xceptions. See you on the countdown!

Video Clipped

Moving right through the week. 

Just a short bit today, very full life and schedule. Lots of obligations. I've got many debts to keep and miles to go before I sleep. In contrast to yesterday's in-depth look at Purple by Stone Temple Pilots, today's post will be a simplified look at a song from the same era. 

Before the days of DVRs and YouTube, it was darn near impossible to find something illusive on TV. If, like me, you only had MTV to serve as an introductory source of music you had to pay rapt attention, lest you miss the little info box on the small of the screen at the beginning and end of the clip. Good luck if it was a more obscure song, too - while there were still videos on MTV at the time, they were becoming fewer and farther between. A sick day from school was a guaranteed marathon of MTV at that stage in my life - it was the only way to see some of the videos I wanted to see so badly. That's how I saw the debut of the Mentos-themed clip for 'Big Me' by The Foo Fighters, or the premiere of Green Day's dual release 'Brainstew/Jaded' when I was an obsessed young teenager. 

This unfortunate catch-as-you-can modus operandi made me into a rapt viewer. Of course, I was too stupid to write anything down, instead relying on my own intellect to recall anything worthwhile. It may have been a vain, foolhardy technique, but hey - I was 13 and it might be responsible for whatever powers of pop-culture recollection I possess today. Anyway, point is - one sunny spring afternoon I saw a video for a band called Stabbing Westward. The lead singer sounded a bit more like Ozzy than I would really prefer, but the song, at the time, was incredibly heavy and rocking. The video for the song was interesting as well, a bit of performance footage interspersed with the band watching a movie for what may have been an earlier version of the clip itself. Unfortunately the name of the song was a bit generic, to the point that I pretty much forgot it as soon as the text disappeared at the end of the clip. All I had was the band name. I filed it away in the back of my head as awesome but likely to never be heard again.

 Time passed, I found other music I was more excited about. Then, one day months after seeing the video once, I was in my dinky little music store I frequented when I saw a name that tugged at the back of my mind. It was Stabbing Westward's album, Wither, Blister, Burn + Peel. 

"It was good..." I thought of the single.

So I plunked down fourteen (14!) hard earned dollars for the album. 

The album, as a whole, was wildly uneven. That single, though - good stuff. Not $14 good, really, but pretty good when I was younger. Actually it's pretty good now. I figure by the law of averages , the price of that cd is offset by all of the free or "free" music I've obtained in the course of my life. Sometimes you have to pay in, amiright? Anyway, remembering that single and picking up the album was a good choice. I didn't really know it at the time but this was basically my first foray into the world of industrial music, even at it's most mediocre. I wouldn't get into NIN until years later.

'Shame' proved to be a decent track I kept coming back to. It's fairly de-rigeur and of-the-times with it's distorted guitars and wailing vocals, but as longs you're not looking for high art it's a fun rock track. There's a tone here that's quite appealing, something created by the verses and chorus playing off of each other, that makes an air of sleek movement and chases via hard rock of the 90s. Check it out.

Good Catch

What's good?


I'm heading out to what will be the first of a slew of holiday parties tonight. I mean, the first of the season. No party hopping for me. Just getting a jump on the season. Super excited, no joke. While I get ready, I plan on listening to something a bit odd, a lost song that fell through the cracks of the world in the 90s. It's one of my favorite hidden gems. I got it on a CD that was given to me by my older brother's friend back when I was an impressionable youth and everything everyone older than me did was irrevocably cool. 

This friend of the older, benevolent brother was as constant a source of new tunes as my brother. When he sold me a stack of CDs he longer listened to, I was (for no discernible reason) really enthralled by a sampler for a label based in New York. For years after, I was unable to find any information on who or what the album was. Only in the last few years has relevant info popped up on the Googles. At the time, though, it was this inscrutable oddity - no real story or explanation as to what it was, just a random label sampler. Sure, there were some stinkers on there, but there were some great hidden gems, too. It was from Grass Records, which later evolved into Wind-Up, which kind of solves that little riddle. According to the Wiki, there were financial problems, which may account for the lack of any information whatsoever. The sampler was called Grass of '96 and it featured what must have been the new artists of that year. 

My favorite track off the sampler was (of course) similar to Sneaker Pimps, Portishead and Massive Attack. Performing a song called 'Catch Me', Chimera popped into my life with this lone single and disappeared without a trace. From what I've found, they were an Irish band that existed long enough to put out a few albums but never had much mainstream success here in the states. Too bad, because I really still dig this song. It's always felt a bit like the typical 90s alt sound, a bit of looped drums (how edgy!) and some caterwauling distortion beneath a clean, spacey guitar line. Singer Eileen Henry had a fine voice, nothing crazy but just fine for the song, clear and emotive, high and light. 


There's no big, startling revelation to this song, or a dramatic memory attached to it. Just something that was always odd and it stood out to me as something that should have had broader success than (seemingly) me being the only person to ever hear it. I guess I got the sampler around fall/winter, so it pops back into my mind this time of year. Give it a listen and see what I'm rambling about. Hopefully you dig it like I did.

Police State

Okay.


Alright.


So, I'm in.


I had heard the buzz about Polica for a while. As bummed as I was about the disolution of local folk husband-and-wife outfit Roma di Luna, there was a bright spot on the horizon. While Alexi was free to return to his main ouevre as part of Kill The Vultures, his wife Channy Leaneagh teamed up with Chris Bierden, Drew Christopherson and Ben Ivascu to record a full length album under the name Polica. Funny thing is, they did this without playing a proper show in Minnesota. Before the album even comes out, though, there has been a massive buzz around the band. Just a couple of tracks from the forth-coming Give You The Ghost have been teased, yet their is an insatiable hunger for more. 

While they recently built on the anticipation by opening for Foster The People at First Ave the other night, Polica have already become a staple on The Current. Check out their sight to hear 'Wandering Star' (titled 'Dark Star' on their official site). This was the first track of theirs that I heard. It sums up all the best parts of the band without exposing all their secrets. Channy's voice gets to float and flit over the band, the only other sounds being two drummers, bass and the occasional sample. It's sparse and aloof, some soft vocals that get twisted and and tweaked just a bit while washing over the band. The echo of the drums and the warm bass make a distinct sound that form a better whole than the separate elements. 'Lay Out Your Cards', on the Polica website, has a similar mix of empty spaces and warm, human touches. Another in-studio performance for Radio K yields another fantastic song, the Bjork-esque 'Leading to Death'. It has some great synthesizers that form a core around which the band crafts a whimsical and weird tune.

I can't wait to hear more, honestly. Full confession - I am totally on the band wagon now. I had heard the buzz building and thought "how can it be so great?". Then I heard one song. That was all it took. I had to hear more. The album is done and ready to go, but in a wise move they're holding their cards close. A Valentine's Day release show is planned. Get on board now, kids. You won't want to miss this. 

Drop Off

Thus ends the weekend.

Much better this time around. I actually got to sleep in. Another round of requisite errands and cleaning on a grey Sunday in Minnesota, one of those days where the horizon disappears. The ground is grey, and the overcast sky fades seamlessly in, making one indistinguishable world. It was a day of checking things off lists and a steady slow stream of conversation with my better half. I'm not gonna lie - there was some Xmas music in there. Not all of it, though. There was a buzzing, quiet drone that almost lulled me to sleep this afternoon. I kind of wish I had indulged in the nap that beckoned as I listened to 'Teardrop' by Massive Attack.

Yes, yes - I'm sure you're well familiar with the song due its use as the opening credits accompaniment on the medical series House. You know what, though? Forget all that. Not to knock the show (I've only ever caught a few episodes and can't confidently make a comprehensive judgement) but I don't like that this amazing, haunting song has been co-opted by a procedural. It's so much more amazing than that. But I guess that's what got it selected for use in the show, so what can I complain about, right? It's gorgeous and evocative of mourning and loss, despite its beautiful nature. The stark arrangement, the heavy thud of the piano, the steady click of the drums. There is so much coming together in just the right way with this song, forming a strong whole than the sum of its parts.

 I don't mean to be disparaging of the commercial use of 'Teardrop'. I'll be the first to state how much songs used in massively popular TV shows and movies make an impact. I guess it has more to do with the gentle and personal nature of this track that makes me react in that way. I shouldn't have to defend this song from the commercial sector. Haven't I written voluminous screeds about effective use of music in soundtracks and how they create meaningful moments? I can let this slide, I suppose. Just hearing the song today as I was winding down brought up the conflicting feeling of wanting to remind the world of its beauty but realizing it's been so co-opted that people would just assume "oh, that song from House?". Not the worst thing in the world, but try to separate the two. Listen to 'Teardrop' as a stand alone entity. Hear it for how serene and somber it is. It's haunting.

Cold Cut

Yo!


I am writing this having been on the business end of a Power Hour with my better half and my sister in law. Such is life. You gotta make your own fun in the burbs! But long before I got down to business carousing and drinking to a timer while jamming out to local artists, I was out on a series of requisite errands. While doing so, one of the first major so falls of the season came upon the metro area. While I was winding my way through the snow I found myself cranking up a thoroughly amazing song that I credit hearing solely to the local indie station, 89.3, The Current. The tune in question? 'Surgeon' by St. Vincent.

It was kind of a beautiful moment. I had made a productive round of the area, crossing all sorts of things off my list. I was headed back to base camp. The snow was falling slow and steady, the lackadaisical kind of weather that begs you to pull over and start wandering through the adjacent woods. Had I been in my parents homestead, I would have just strapped on some snowshoes and wandered off and seen what the world had in store. In the outer ring, though, it means cranking some indie tunes and barreling through the snow, feeling the song crafting the atmosphere around me.

'Suregoen' by St. Vincent is a trip of a track. Hailing from the album Strange Mercy, it's comprised of seemingly disparate pieces of music, all glued together under the guise of some out-of-synch guitars and fuzzed out bass. St. Vincent is a young woman, barely a year older than myself, who has cut her teeth supporting some of the titans of the independent music scene. Her songs are breathy, ethereal things. This tune is no exception. It's a phantom of a track that makes any day, especially one with an isolating winter storm, all the better. Your mind gets wrapped in a blanket. You get a warm, fuzzy feeling from the bass and off kilter elements.

It's been a crazy, weird night out here in the outer ring. A night like this, far from the bars and restaurants I know, you gotta make your own fun in the outpost. When the snow started falling, it felt a bit like I was headed to my Hoth encampment. The strange air lended by St. Vincent only made it more wonderful and odd. Listen to St. Vincent, for real. She is an amazing artist with a great, distinct sound.

Game On

So the weekend is here.


Thank goodness.


Been a long week. Glad to see it end. I didn't really get a break last week; while everyone else got a long weekend, I spent the time moving and hauling furniture. Now I get to unwind and tie one on, even if it is from the quiet, remote outpost that is the outer ring of the suburbs. Things will happen though, and I will inevitably get up to the requisite mischief. To accompany any such mischief, as well as whatever you might find yourself getting into, might I suggest something banging and thumping for a soundtrack? Yes? Good. How about 'Name of the Game' by the Crystal Method?

Whatever you find yourself getting into, you need to do it to the ominous, blasting sounds of The Crystal Method. The dirty, breaking sounds of this legendary electronic dance duo compliment any sort of behavior you might find yourself getting into. Pre-gaming for a pub crawl with a raucous crew of compatriots? Crank it. Simply crossing errands off of a checklist? Set a self imposed deadline and race against the clock while blasting this crazy tune (all in accordance with your local legal codes, mind you). No matter how manic or mundane your activities are, up the ante with 'Name of the Game' off their 2001 album Tweekend.

The song is a slow roaster of a jam, a staple from back at the turn of the millennium. A deep and funky guitar riff courtesy of Tom Morello propels the song along, putting one mammoth foot in front of the other. The big beat production duo break a steady beat open into full swing to give a sense of momentum and force to a juggernaut of a rock/dance hybrid. The video produced for the song is just as memorable and strange, featuring a young dude with only nose for a face, dealing with his (at the time, stereotypical) bad ass life - break-dancing, fighting with his girl, getting hassled by the cops. Charming stuff.

I'm not saying you need to break any laws this weekend. By all means, have a crazy, reckless time and blow off some steam. Just do it withing the boundaries of established legal precedent. I'm just suggesting that whatever you find yourself doing to vent can be made all the more dynamic and thrilling by putting a bit of the ol' bustin' n' breakin' riff/rock dance tunes underneath. That was a lot of apostrophe's, right? Yeah, probably too many. A sign I've had too much fun - I'm playing fast and loose with my punctuation. I'll settle down. You're just getting started, aren't you?

Space Out

Man. Crazy day.


Busy stuff. One of those days that sees you just trying to keep up with whatever comes down the pike, not just trying to knock things off your list but more along the lines of juggling while someone keeps throwing in fresh elements for you to keep aloft. I got through, though, without any of my weary remembrances of the dark days of my youth. Nah, sometimes you gotta take a bad day and just flip it over on itself. So instead of the slice and dice dangers of adolescent angst, how about we go full on Glam Rock? 'In The Meantime' by Spacehog. That's how you can turn it over.

 Not to pigeonhole the band, but these guys were a one hit wonder, right? I mean, think of another significant song of theirs - nothing else they did even comes close to the iconic riffage of 'In The Meantime'. It came out in 1996, at the heyday of, or maybe the downward slope of MTV's alternative love-fest. This song, and the strange video, got a lot of airplay on the old standby 120 Minutes. Too bad it was the only thing on the album Resident Alien that got any airplay despite the fact it went gold.

It has that kind of recognizable riff that immediately cuts through the white noise of our modern world. You hear the guitar lick the song is built around, and the high pitched backing vocals and BAM - there you have a song that gets you to cock your head and say "Yeah, okay. I got this." The whole song is good, with the little telephone signal intro and the strutting bassline under the verses. The vocals are pure Glam-era Bowie, over-sung and over emoted in the most goofy, sincere way. That chorus, though. It's total Glam cheese, but it's so insanely great that you can't be in a foul, stressed mood when you hear it. One spin around and you probably have a growing grin on your face.

See how that works? You can have me getting all existential and reflective one day, extolling the virtues of the Deftones and their alt metal gestalt, only to see the mood totally flip after a hectic day by listening to a single, bizarre song. Listen to it and try to place all the idiosyncratic times it's popped up in your life. 

Jar Head

It's oh so quiet.

I'm writing this from the new digs. What strikes me most, aside from the obvious, hit you on the head nature of moving, is the quiet. In the last five years I became quite accustomed to the sound of drunken howling, passing ambulances and car horns. The general ambiance of Uptown, in short. Escaping to the farther rings of the city offers something that I used to associate with living in my parent's house as a teenager - total silence. A quiet night like this one, totally bereft of noise, sneaking into the kitchen so as not to wake anyone sleeping with my footsteps and opening of cupboard doors...suddenly I"m 17 again, living in my parent's basement. 

Not all was silent, though. Through out the winter I spent my share of quiet, late nights playing PS2 games with the volume at the audible threshold. Between GTA3, Silent Hill 2 and Tony Hawk 3 I was a content Midwestern recluse. No matter the depths of a blizzard or quiet solitude of a Sunday night, I was happy to sit in the quiet and vid out. A night like this makes me think of a favorite lost song I should be hearing. If I still had my PS2 still hooked up (somewhere, packed away in a box with our shared systems - Atari, Nes, Snes, Sega, N64, PS2, Xbox, GameCube and a Wii) I would get all nostalgic and play Tony Hawk 3 with 'Not The Same' by Bodyjar on a loop.

The Tony Hawk video games weren't just frenetic, addictive fun. They had killer soundtracks, too. As a Midwestern recluse I heard a fair amount of good, fresh music from these games. I can attest that among my friends more than a share of us had memorized lyrics due to marathon gaming sessions. We all had our favorites. Mine was the melodic punk offering of the (now defunct) Australian band Bodyjar. Countless sessions of fevered two-minute rounds were played to the strains of blasting guitars and snide, rounded vocals only half discerned. The only thing missing from tonight that would complete the recollection is a PS2 controller and about three feet of snow, which, being the end of November, should be here by now. 

Hearing the song now, I still dig it, even if my tastes have slowed down slightly. While I listen to more down-tempo instrumental and ambient music, I still have an affinity for the unresolved tension of the main riff to 'Not The Same'. The pre-chorus, with its not-quite-out-of-key chord progression, still sounds great. If you're at all near my age bracket (which you can figure out via context clues) you might be familiar with this song. Give it a spin or hey - bust out the PS2. It's about 10 years on from that sweet spot with all those great games. On a quiet night like this, I'm quite tempted, myself.

Fantastic Crimes

What's up, gang?


So tomorrow is the big day. We move out after four years in the same condo in Uptown. As crazy excited as I am for this new adventure to start, I'm also feeling the natural amount of saudade over closing this amazing chapter. As we've finished the packing process and started processing the emotions, something has become apparent - I listen to a lot of down beat or melancholic music. Anything I played while packing the last of our boxes mad me too sad to press on. Instead of some contemplative trip hop or ambient mood music I had to resort to some more energetic music. Not wanting to go full-on optimist (given the situation) I ended up stumbling over a phenomenal song that still sounds great - 'Criminal' by Fiona Apple.

I wrote about Apple and her sophomore album a while back. I stand by my assertions about taking her at face value and embracing her passion. None of that would have been asserted without her amazing, passionate debut album Tidal. Jumping right onto the charts with 'Shadowboxer', Apple was a firebrand at a young age. When her video for 'Criminal' came out though, more attention was paid to the scandalous video than the superb song. Too bad, cause the song was tops. The video was part of a weird wave that was occurring in the mid 90s that seemed to anchor around the suggested exploitation of young women. Seedy settings and trappings. Scantily clad, scrawny young women with sunken cheek bones. It was a weird kind of bummer, seeing it so embraced by the media and pop culture. Thank goodness that's all changed, right? Well, it certainly is understandable then, why Fiona Apple got so pissed at the VMAs that year. What I'm saying is forget the video, just listen to the song.

'Criminal' is a dangerous, malicious and self-loathing burner of a pop song. Apple had channeled something fierce inside of her when she wrote this song. Opening with the unnerving adult confession "I've been a bad, bad girl, I've been careless with a delicate man," Apple goes on to exorcise her emotional demons in the most satisfying way. She unleashes her guilt and anguish in a sublime, slinking piano piece. Her low, angry voice is strong and firm even when she floats into a gorgeous higher register she rarely taps into. It's a song with some verve and menace, a little swing to the punch. Basically she was as dangerous as we thought she was safe. We had her all wrong with that vapid video.

Forget the exploitative white noise of the video. I don't even like linking to it, save the fact that it hosts the actual tune. Apple is still a bad ass, she's just not as out in the fore-front of the noise brigade. She's still making her music, you just don't see weird videos without the medium of MTV to facilitate the bad mojo. Give an ear to her tunes and see how you can feel the passion coming through. It shot me out of the saudade of moving out. Lord knows what I'll have to listen to when I drive away for the last time.

Posed

Are you stressed?


I hope not. Turkey day can take a lot out of a person. Travel. Traffic Jams. Family. Complex interpersonal dynamics. Cooking. A lack of preparation in the kitchen. Man, there are way too many things that can go wrong in the next 48 hours. I'm not trying to jinx you. Quite the opposite, in fact. What I'm trying to do is find that little steam valve on the back of your head and turn it, ever so slightly, to vent a little pressure. As much as the next couple days may take a toll on you, you deserve a break. So how about a private dance party? Something that seems personal and small, but funky and fun? How about you listen to 'Cameras' by Matt & Kim when you feel uptight. I think it will help.

Matt & Kim are a band most people have heard, whether or not they're aware of it. The de-facto named group, Matt Johnson on keys and Kim Schifino on drums, share vocal duties while making a series of wide-ranging tunes. Most famously the duo hit the Alt/Indie charts with the thumping, melodic and above all sparse 'Good Ol' Fashioned Nightmare'. It was everywhere for a while, including the pilot of our modern Arrested Development, Community. Sidewalks, last year's follow up to the cross-over Grand, has a great single in 'Cameras' that I still love to shimmy to. It always come on shuffle when I'm cleaning on Saturday mornings. My better half has more than occasionally caught me dancing around with a broom, shaking my shoulders with the beat.

Starting with a series of synth tones that evoke early-era Sega, 'Cameras' bounces right into the pocket with some fake horns and a heavy drum beat. A swirl of looping xylophone notes and Matt's vocals craft a verse that's as hook-laden as the chorus. In a way the laid-back shuffle reminds me of 'Nothing to Worry About' by Peter, Bjorn & John. The chorus breaks the song into a sailing half-time that feels like it spreads the tune over a piece of bread like butter. It's a slice of solid gold, in short.

'Cameras' may not be cutting-edge new, but man if it isn't some funky fun. When you're feeling the pressure of the big day getting to you, either blast this for everyone in the room or go find a private spot and jam out on your own. It's a personal, cathartic secret that lets you burn off a little steam. You'll feel better with your three minute dance party tucked under your cap. Do yourself a favor and cut loose when cutting the bird.

All Right, Place

I'm facing the end of an era and I'm okay with it. 

It's a personal era, I should clarify. For the last five years I've called Uptown my home. I've had fantastic times here - amazing memories with my better half. Crazy nights out. Adventures with friends. I've seen shows that were to die for. Block parties that enveloped the entire neighborhood. I got engaged here. We got married here. I've seen landmarks come and go. I still miss the Uptown Bar. It's not a bad thing, this change. It's a necessary one. As I've grown older, the world has changed around me. Most of my friends have moved away or moved to the suburbs. I don't go out as much, these days. While I love the accessibility and convenience of the stores and night-life, I'm tired of dudes on motorcycles roaring past my place all night during the summer. Makes it hard to have a conversation some times. I'm ready to go, but that doesn't mean I'm not feeling a little sad about leaving a place I've called home for the better part of a decade. 

I'm using music to cope with this change. A lot of days, we've been putting on tunes that relax us and make us happier while we pack boxes and break down our place into smaller pieces. Sometimes the more cathartic music makes more sense to me, but I don't always want to share that with her. As I've been walking to the bus in the morning, each time savoring what would normally be a cold walk through Uptown to the Transit Station, I've been listening to Manchester Orchestra's 2009 single 'I've Got Friends'. It's a song that hits the sweet spot between comfort and upheaval, a perfect compliment to the back and forth states of mind I've been experiencing.

Starting with only a sparse guitar line and a simple but evocative chord change, 'I've Got Friends' is a song that builds over its five intense minutes. Singer and guitarist Andy Mull's voice is high and clear, a warbling thing that trills the melody as a descent over the hypnotic verse. On a dime, the band switches gears and jumps into the refrain, Mull singing over and over "I've got friends in all the right places. I know what they want and I know they don't want me to stay." Every repetition of the refrain sees his voice growing more and more raspy and broken; by the end of the song he's created a wall of his pained wailing, the high harmonies being just as powerful as the inflection in the lyrics. From the ambiguity of the lyrics and the mixture of joy and sorrow in Mull's it's  not immediately clear whether or not he's happy about his predicament, but I hardly care at this point. I'm completely hooked on this anguished ouroboros of an indie rock song. 

Pained or anxious, joyful or eager, I find my pulse rising for no discernible reason these last few weeks. I think it's from the knowledge a major change is going to take place. I feel great about it, I just wish I didn't have to close a chapter in my life along with it. Songs like this, with the simultaneous suggestions of having kin but not feeling wanted, make the self-removal process easier. Most of my friends are out of the area now, so who do I feel I'm leaving behind? My younger self? I don't know. I just want to go home to my better half and get started on our new adventure together. I'll just turn up my music as I'm walking home to ease me through the transition.