October 5th, 2009 9:09am
Would so many kids be willing to embrace nerdiness — at least on a superficial level — if “brain” was not a slang term for blowjobs? Who knows, but I love it. “Dorkin’” is about dancing and receiving oral sex, but it feels genuinely dorky. Part of that comes from the unapologetic poppiness of the track, but it is mostly conveyed by the vocal style, which comes off like a grinning, not-quite-wholesome version of the Clipse. When Stakk Money says “I get so much brain it don’t even make sense” in the chorus, he actually sounds a tiny bit surprised by his good fortune. Normally this would just be empty bragging from an overprivileged alpha male, and it still basically is, but something about this guy makes me think “Wow, good for you, kid!”
This may be a case of writing what you know. Mi$Z spends the entire track discussing her fashion aesthetic, and the ways her over-the-top cuteness and style influence the men and women in her social circles. It’s adorable. My favorite bit is when she boasts that she’s the reason trends begin, which feels so charming and honest. She may have a lot of reasons to be fashion-forward, but the one that comes through loud and clear in that moment is the desire for validation from her peers for her creativity and personality on her own terms.
October 2nd, 2009 8:35am
At about 2:34 in “The Sparrow Looks Up At The Machine,” you can hear my favorite bit of sonic detail in any song that I have encountered in recent months. Though I am open to the possibility that it could be some kind of synthesizer, it is very clearly the sound of cell phone interference. I know that distinct sound mainly from being in my friend’s car — it’s the noise made when signals from his iPhone disrupt the music on the stereo. It’s a very evocative thing to hear, in and out of context. It’s like a sudden headache made audible, and it imposes on you like an unwanted guest. It’s mundane, but also sort of otherworldly, and I’m sure that if you were to look at a visualization of the sound waves, it would appear unusually jagged yet boxy.
Like the rest of the songs on Embryonic, “The Sparrow Looks Up At The Machine” seems as if it were designed to simulate a bad trip, or an otherwise deeply uncomfortable state of being. The bass looms especially large, lurching along at a frequency that pulls up memories of nausea and cramping. The beats mostly stomp and crush, as if the drums were just the feet of some gigantic monster. Bits of treble fire off, like tiny synaptic lasers in a sci-fi gun battle somewhere deep in the brain. This may all seem unlistenable in print, but the songs themselves are marvels of paranoid psychedelia, and even the most overbearingly grim compositions have a cool, calm center and elements of beauty amid the darkness and murk. It’s ugly and even a bit depressing, but The Flaming Lips have created a fantastically vivid musical nightmare.
October 1st, 2009 8:55am
The bass is what pulls this song together, and it’s certainly what carries it along, but it’s not necessarily what draws my attention. I’m more interested in the piano chords that seem to pass through the composition like some kind of sad, drunk apparition, and the way the drum fills seem overly stiff in contrast with the fluid grace of the bass parts. Sarah Assbring is singing about a crumbling, failed long term relationship and it makes sense in this context — the music feels exactly like the strange emotional space of a consistent, comforting pattern that has been gradually ruined by ongoing bitter conflicts.
September 30th, 2009 9:22am
There is a generosity in the very sound of Erlend Øye’s voice, but it’s understated and rather matter-of-fact so he always comes off as a sweet, romantic diplomat. That’s certainly the role he plays in “Mrs. Cold,” a sparse, gentle ballad in which he negotiates a conflict with a lover who is putting up a chilly, defensive front. There are lines that could seem condescending in another context, but Øye delivers them without any trace of ill will, and a clear respect for the person he is addressing. He doesn’t back down from his point of view, but he seems open and willing to listen and forgive. Pop songs tend to favor a more hysterical and stubborn approach to relationship troubles, but I quite like and relate to this forthright yet mellow approach to communication.
September 29th, 2009 8:11am
Basement Jaxx are known euphoria merchants, but the best songs on their new album are melancholy, angst-ridden, and utterly lovesick. “My Turn” is a desperate plea for reconciliation that nevertheless retains the color and bump of a classic Jaxx production, if not the manic intensity. The up tempo elements are not at odds with the sentiment of the lyrics. Instead, the sound serves to highlight the optimistic, open-hearted love of the song’s protagonist, and make it abundantly clear how much he yearns to make things right. Maybe he’ll feel more crushed and hopeless later on, but in this moment, he is still convinced that there’s still a chance for all of this to work out, despite the complication and frustrations. It’s very sweet.
September 28th, 2009 8:00am
Phoenix @ Central Park 9/26/2009
Lisztomania / Long Distance Call / Lasso / Run Run Run / Fences / Girlfriend / Armistice / Love Like A Sunset parts 1 and 2 / Too Young / Rally / Consolation Prizes / Rome / Funky Squaredance // Everything Is Everything / Playground Love / If I Ever Feel Better / 1901
I will try to be very polite about this: Based on the turnout for this show, it is safe to say that Phoenix is officially a mainstream band now.
I have not seen them perform since they were touring for Alphabetical. Aside from the shift in fan demographics, the major difference between then and now is that they’ve loosened up a bit. They’re still slick and professional, but their show feels more spontaneous and “rock” now, which goes along with their general change of direction and emphasis. (Well, also, they stopped throwing baguettes into the crowd. Tough economy for everyone these days, I guess.) This was a fun set, and the audience was certainly enthusiastic for the material from Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, but I felt a bit removed from the experience, despite having a lot of emotional energy invested in some of these songs. Let’s just blame this on my head being elsewhere, and that I happened to be surrounded by some very obnoxious audience members. The band certainly put their hearts into it.
The lyrics of “Rome” read like an interior monologue with minimal context, but there’s more than enough there to suggest potent waves of doubt, jealousy, regret, and nostalgia. It is so bittersweet, especially in the way it suggests that as much as it is clear that the romance is over, it will be impossible to fully extricate himself from this person. It’s your fault, it’s their fault, it’s someone else’s fault, it’s just the way it goes. At least the song can find the beauty in feeling so defeated.
September 24th, 2009 8:59am
Love as an adventure, love as a struggle, love as a triumph over loneliness, insecurity, and mathematical probability. “Explorers of the Heart” celebrates all of this, and its form mirrors the arc — doubtful, melancholy verses building up to a chorus that bursts with a hard-won joy. Some songs shoot for euphoria, but that isn’t quite what’s going on here. Instead, you get the sense that as incredibly happy the singer may be, she also is a bit exhausted, and more than a little amazed that she managed to beat the odds and win despite all the obstacles and adversity.
September 23rd, 2009 9:51am
Some singers rely on lyrics that convey their meaning with directness and precision, but Yukimi Nagano is the type to let her words roughly sketch out a feeling that she embellishes with her voice. This approach puts more faith in the unique effects of music — you could say what you need to say if you have to, but singing can successfully communicate nuances that writing and conversation will typically fail. “A New” is not exactly inscrutable, but you can better intuit the connections between Nagano’s lines, and sense her wonder and confusion as everything she understood about someone is upended, and she attempts to sort it out. Are things better? Are things worse? Has nothing actually changed? It’s hard to say, but I’m sure that she doesn’t know, and that’s the point.
September 22nd, 2009 9:46am
“Fallen Over” is the latest in a slow trickle of solo singles from Rose Elinor Dougall, and each song has proven the former Pipette to not only have a great knack for propulsive, melancholy pop, but also a great skill in penning vivid, disarmingly straightforward lyrics about romance. There’s a trace of Morrissey in the melody of this number, but Dougall isn’t going for dark wit, and her self-deprecation is mainly in the interest of expressing earnest desire. Despite the fact that this is a song about the clumsiness of two people falling in love, the music is glorious and graceful, underscoring a confidence and faith the singer won’t admit in her words.
September 21st, 2009 7:54am
There’s something in the Victorian English Gentlemens Club’s music that makes me want to indulge in mischief. Their songs are frantic and dynamic, but also focused and direct, evoking the buzz of paranoia and the thrill of transgression. On top of that, the group vocals tend to imply a feeling of camaraderie, as if you’re just part of a jolly crew of kids up to no good, desperately seeking fun in a boring, stifling world. “Bored In Belgium” is explicitly about escaping a dull existence, attempting to find relief and release, and though it’s unclear whether that is entirely possible, the song itself is certainly an amazing catharsis.