Tags: music

aware

(no subject)

things about the new bloc party album that i need to translate:

1) not only do i not know what "bloc party" sounds like, i don't really give two shits.

because

2) the new album is fucking beautiful.

two comments on 2):

a) all the jagged stuff (the first handful of songs) sounds like muted paper chase riffs-like they're less concerned with funkrockdanceifying their edges and instead choose to make them harsher, a la john congleton and co.


and

b) all the big, epic stuff (the rest of weekend in the city) could join together to make a near-perfect u2 e.p.

that's right, kids. you like u2, and you like big and epic and heartstring-tugging. put away your douchecuts and emote. i tried to tell y'all it was in last year, but people don't cry no more, all they do is this (where "this"=not really dancing but pretending to rave or just standing around and talking about shit that sounds like tiefschwarz).

bloc party is now, officially a "scaled these yelpy walls" band.

and i fucking love it. i'll listen to that OTHER album they did...someday. this shit is too dark and pretty and perfect for me right now to even begin to imagine diluting it.
aware

lycanthropy

the new patrick wolf album may be my record of 2007.

it's gorgeous, classical composition with an electronic mindset and serious, lush, pretty songwriting that's almost overwhelming in its' ability to be immediately accessable and yet so. damn. dark. like plaid as children telling each other ghost tales...

(kinda what owen finalfantasyinmydad'sbasement WISHES he could do. go poo clouds and submit to win + regine's glockenspiel, ya fucktard. your music is nothing compared to this.)



plus, um, he's touring with sufjan?

holy shit. can you say prettyfest '07...

i think i have prettyfest '07 pretty (no pun) well plotted out:

patrick wolf (or p-wo, as i will henceforth call him), sufjan, tiga sontag....suggest any others?

and, in the meantime...

Collapse )

and star_iv says i "never talk about music anymore".

mmmmhmmm.
kick

selling of a loose-knit dream

i can't gush about how utterly gorgeous the sheer static and silence coming from the silversun pickups album is.



i'm aware that many who i'm close to, that i exchange and discuss music with, aren't going to find in it the total wrap-around-you and pull-you-in brilliance that i have...but i hit a "second jesus and mary chain album" sort of feel in their stuff. it's anchored by a love of noise, it seems, but also the knowledge that there's patterns in static and beauty in allowing something to build to explosion rather than crashing in on its' own weight. this isn't wind-tunnel drone, but it isn't NOT, either. this music is pop made fucking holy by virtue of feedback.

silversun pickups: "little lover's so polite"

it’s always the same way for me
blue turns soft with time
broke remains, an everyday disguise
ending in the same way


lauren, nicole and i talked about this band the fucking night they were in town to play, and opted not to go, all being relatively new to the stuff. in the couple of days since then, i can't get this album to go away. i'm hungover to hell, and this morning, this song has given my mental space somewhere to go. it's kinda sorta what i wished the new sonic youth had been, only to say that is to sell "rather ripped" short. this is, i guess, what serena maneesh should have sounded like, this is what i keep wishing for from the whole au current prog rock fetish (yeah, you, muse, and that stupid stupid "knights of cydonia" bullshit that just sounds like "barracuda" without the fun)-something huge, and big, loud, but for a fucking reason. and all the songs are around 4 minutes, so you can't complain it's too much. i'm not asking you to listen to fucking PIANO MAGIC here, or a schematic records album.

and this song, by virtue of its' smallness at first, is going to overwhelm whatever the fuck you're expecting from it. so go ahead, get OVER the voice (you listened to arcade fire for TWO years now, and you can't tell me dude can actually sing), which i refer to as "wheatus and mary chain", and fucking LISTEN. just close your eyes. instead of stormtroopercostume-rock and lyrics about robots and knights and hedgerows, there's a heart to this matter.

(and that album cover's kinda blacklight college stoner, but yet it's still...pretty. and compelling. as in, i want to stare at it. and if the poni hoax 12" cover, with the owl, wasn't my desktop wallpaper, i'd set it as that.)

THIS is why i hate to be two seconds behind. because we didn't go to this fucking show.

anyway. in the oft-quoted (by me) words of peter gabriel, "shh, listen."
disappoint

technology as nature

two things that are making me amazingly happy right now.

one is this:

the interpretive hypertext version of djuna barnes' "nightwood.

"nightwood" is my second favorite book ever (after, of course, "ulysses". although i find them to be both flips of the same coin, though people would always claim "nightwood" was lesser because, you know, barnes was female and therefore incapable of being as skilled a language-craftsperson as joyce), and playing through this site made me realize i think the music and book blog i'm setting up is going to have a similar theme.

SECONDLY:




10.000 Maniacs: Planned Obsolescence mp3

this song is the one that'll weird you kids out who are expecting "these are days" flowers-and-feminine hygiene products-era 10km. looped distortion caused by john lombardo swinging a microphone around natalie's head because she refused to get up from laying under the mixing console while singing her lyrics from her notebook during the recording session.


10.000 Maniacs: Scorpio Rising mp3

i used to put this on EVERY mixtape i made for relevantpink, back when we kids did that sort of thing. this is my favorite maniacs' song, next to the unplugged version of "Stockton Gala Days". this was their first "big" single, and there's a video of them performing it on a cable access show on which natalie refuses to face the camera. i bought "wishing chair" on vinyl just in the hopes of one day seeing kids dance to this. it's big, it's loud, and i love the final, apathetic "amaze me now...now." (make NO mistake, "amaze me now"? the ORIGINAL "make me care". seriously. )
also, why did no one ever tattoo "trust is the greatest human error" to their skin?

if you could calm or restrain it
for the sake of pity
save the pistol
save the cynic's tongue
save that cool white stare
and treat me to an honest face sometime.

amaze me now.


also:



doesn't my grandmother look like she was in the that 10km album cover?
kick

don't. get. me. wrong.

that last entry has me re-listening to the pretenders. i do this every so often, as with roxy music, talking heads, the bands that i forget really ARE that good (as opposed to, say, new order, who are always in the background of everything i listen to, ever, with the knowledge that i will always have guilt trumping regret and there will always be true faith), and i forget how BEAUTIFUL the last minute of "don't get me wrong" is.

i want to be in a dark room, with a black shirt and a red tie, and i want sweaty drunk cute hipster girls with choppy haircuts to raise their drinks and dance to this, to the jangle of guitar that really only snakes in at the end.

Don't get me wrong,
If I split like light refracted,
I'm only off to wander
Across a moonlit mile.


_stadtkind_ (9:17:46 PM): god why are the god damn pretenders so good
sool (9:17:50 PM): i don't know!
sool (9:17:50 PM): i was thinking this today
sool (9:17:53 PM): while at home depot
sool (9:18:00 PM): bc they are always played at the strangest places
sool (9:18:04 PM): home depot and truck stops
sool (9:20:04 PM): and all the contractors with fat asses wish no one was around so they could dance a little bit

(LJ-ify your IMs before pasting!)


Don't get me wrong,
If I fall in the mode of passion
It might be unbelievable.
But let's not say so long,
It might just be fantastic
Don't get me wrong.


when i was helping out and doing the overflow classes at mississippi state, one of my students, the cute one, tall, dark hair, eyes far too big for her to know what to do with, tiny little ass that made my world change every time she'd walk in a room and drawl "ruuuuussssss", and one morning she had "brass in pocket" on her ipod. i had to turn her into something inanimate for the rest of her time in my class. i believe i imagined she was a desk lamp.

i have been listening to a lot of crap that wants to be this. this band, opening for the editors or something, called monsters are waiting, tries to be chrissie so much, and fails and then tries to be the cardigans. so much so i was misinformed into thinking it WAS the new cardigans-regrouping.

fuck that. fuck this new school. at least for a minute. it takes a sense of security to say "whatever you are doing can wait. this is where i remember my heart being."

can ANYONE listen to "brass in pocket" without scarlett hotness johansson's atonal voice and perfect fucking lips wrapping around mymymymymyimagination cause i.....

and really, i mean, chrissie hynde in and of herself is the ultimate indie girl, with the best haircut. even now, she could kick some friday night indie rock party ass.



maybe when music gets boring, and everything sounds the same, it's time to go back to things that don't suzan has her pere ubu. i'll be honest, the roxy music album on the drive home today sounded like nothing so much as lipstick-smudged perfuckingfection. and right now i think chrissie hynde sounds like salvation.