Archive for the Music Category

What An Amazing History Of The Apples In Stereo, And Other Elephant 6 Stalwarts

Posted in Music with tags , , , , , , , on October 15, 2013 by johnbuckley100

If you really want to read a good history of the Elephant 6 Collective, with insights into the Olivia Tremor Control and the great Apples In Stereo, then head on over to the great Paste.com writeup of Ruston, Louisiana’s finest.  Seriously good reading.

The focus of the piece is on Robert Schneider (Apples), Bill Doss (OTC), and Jeff Mangum (Neutral Milk Hotel), but it delves into the many projects each was involved in along the way.  And it reminds us of how sad it was, in the summer of 2012, when Bill Doss passed away, just as the reformed Olivia Tremor Control was getting ready to put out a new album.

Which reminds us, where is that Olivia Tremor Control album promised before Bill Doss died?  There is a reference here to it being finished.  When will we see it?

 

 

Dean Wareham’s Warm Heart Pastry

Posted in Music with tags , , , , , , , , on October 15, 2013 by johnbuckley100

Dean Wareham’s Emancipated Hearts was released today.  Not quite an E.P., not quite an album, it is — when the B-side to “Love Is Colder Than Death”  is added to the tally — six new Wareham compositions and a cover of The Incredible String Band’s “Air.”  It is a beautiful, modest collection of songs that make us yearn for more — more Wareham in any form he’s willing to give us: solo artist, in tandem with Britta Phillips, or as a leader of a band.

While “The Deadliest Day Since The Invasion Begins” hauntingly lingers in the mind, the title track, “Emancipated Hearts,” is the stunner here.  When you think about Wareham’s sensibility — writing often gorgeous melodies, post-folk sensitive songs as pretty as anything by Robyn Hitchcock — it’s a revelation to realize we’ve never really heard one of his songs with a piano on it, and only rarely with cello or viola.  Wareham has always surrounded his melodies with delectable guitar lines, so purely in the mode of Sterling Morrison’s work with the Velvet Underground that, in fact, the ur-Luna breakthrough, “Friendly Advice,” even featured Morrison.  Here, though, we have piano and viola as emollients and the resulting raga completes a circle, as “Emancipated Hearts” sounds like it could easily have been a collaboration with the fellow-traveling Velvets acolyte Anton Newcombe on some long lost  Brian Jonestown Massacre album, even as it weaves in the tune from “The Little Drummer Boy.”

On Dean and Britta’s 13 Most Beautiful, Wareham recycled Luna’s “The Enabler” as “Herringbone Tweed,” updating a melody for his post-Luna incarnation.  Here he builds “The Ticking Of The Bomb” on the chassis of Luna’s “Hello Little One,” and with the expanded instrumentation used here, it takes a pleasing melody into breathtaking sublimity.  More of this, sir, please?  In fact, the whole mini-album is a tease, like reading a short story in The New Yorker by your favorite author, and while savoring it, it produces that feeling that will only be satisfied by a whole new book.

We love that he chose to play “Air,” a song by the Incredible String Band, and wish only that he could have recorded ISB leader Mike Heron’s “Warm Heart Pastry.”  This is an aspect of Wareham’s talent that is under-exploited: reviving sounds of late ’60s British folk rock.  Again, let’s have some more of this, Dean, ok?

Last week we wondered if Wareham was hinting at a Luna reunion in his review of the new Mazzy Star album.  We don’t really care what form more music from Dean Wareham comes in: a solo album of requisite length, more work with Britta, reunion of Luna.  It has been about eight years since Luna broke up, and on 13 Most Beautiful and now on Emancipated Hearts we have a reminder of how Dean Wareham is a talent of the first rank, his heart emancipated, his songwriting reliant on more than just his magical guitar work to fulfill a song.  May we have another helping?

UPDATE: The original version of this post stated that this was the first collection ever released by “Dean Wareham.”  Our friends at A Headful of Wishes pushed back on this assertion.  So it turns out the “Anesthesia” E.P., released in 1992, really was a “Dean Wareham” release.  We stand corrected.  Because two of the three songs on it were on Luna’s initial release, Lunapark, and because we never saw the 12″ or 7″ vinyl releases, we always assumed this was Luna, and it was a mistake to credit it to Wareham.  Live and learn.

Is Dean Wareham Saying What We Think He’s Saying?

Posted in Music with tags , , , , , on October 11, 2013 by johnbuckley100

Yesterday, Dean Wareham (Luna, Galaxie 500, Dean & Britta) posted an excellent review of the new Mazzy Star albumSeasons of Your Day.  It was a smart, thoughtful take on an album that, frankly, we’d found disappointing.  It led us back to the album, and yes, its quiet charms revealed themselves as we listened to it longer.  We’re appreciative of  Dean Wareham’s impetus for a reconsideration.

That Wareham is — in addition to being an elegant guitarist and the writer of some the best songs of the last 25 years — a strong writer is not a surprise to us.  Black Postcards, his autobiography, sits on a nearby shelf.

And that his new solo album, out Tuesday, is available for streaming over at Spin.com has been one of the delights of our week.  It’s a partial album — six songs, plus a bonus track — and like 2010’s 13 Most Beautiful: Songs For Andy Warhol — it has tantalizing morsels that remind us of why, when we launched Tulip Frenzy several years ago, our description of it was as “a blog focusing on favorite artists such as Luna…”  There’s a reason why Luna came first in our list of favorite artists.  From 1995 til their breakup in 2005, Luna was, by a long margin, our favorite band.  While we understood why they broke up — an inability to have their music heard by, and their records sold to, a large enough audience; the hard life of a mid-tier band — when they walked away from their goodbye show in New York, it was a dark day around our house.  Wareham’s book was a revelation — other than Keith Richards’ Life, the best rock’n’roll autobiography of all time — but his recorded work with wife Britta Phillips has come out in smallish batches, we missed his touring last year with his Galaxie 500 songbook, and as excited as we are about the gorgeous Emancipated Hearts, we know already it will only pique our yearning for something more, something bigger, a fuller album.

Which is why, when we read yesterday’s review of Mazzy Star’s first record in 17 years, this jumped out at us:

“I have to think that maybe an extended hiatus is a good idea for a band — if you can afford it — just step off the treadmill of touring and writing and recording, and return when you have something to say, when the songs are ready. Aside from the challenge of having to write new songs year in and year out, making records over a long period of time means you have to make an effort to remember your strengths, or what inspired you to make music in the first place, and stay true to that, blocking out extraneous noise from radio, from advisers, fans and critics, magazines and blogs (this last one not even a word when the previous Mazzy Star album came out in 1996).”

Is Dean Wareham hinting that Luna could, under the right circumstances, be reformed?  Is he envisioning a moment when the time for a Luna reunion could be ripe? We can only hope.

The Pixies Are Playing At Strathmore. Bummer.

Posted in Music with tags , on October 9, 2013 by johnbuckley100

If our memory is correct, the first time we saw the Pixies, it was 1990 and they played at the old 930 Club in D.C., with their opening act being this pretty good Seattle band called… what was it?  Oh, yeah.  Nirvana.

(We are sure it was 930, unsure whether Nirvana opened for them or some other band we saw there right about that time.  The Fall?  Wire?)

The old 930 Club was a great place to see a punk band — dank, intimate, the audience of, oh, 400 wrapped around the smallish stage.  The original 930 Club — it moved to its present, ideal location circa 1992 — had a unique odor to it, which lingered in the clothes, such that even in winter, when we would come home from a show, Mrs. Tulip Frenzy usually insisted we leave our clothes on the porch and shower before coming to bed — and still we reeked of that potent cocktail: disinfectant, beer suds, cigarettes.  That stench was the smell of… rock’n’roll.

We indulge in this nostalgia because yesterday, the Pixies announced the dates of their North American tour, which sees them playing at Strathmore in Bethesda.  If the old 930 Club was a ’76 Alfa with a rusted door and a sputtering engine, sexy but cool, the Strathmore is a Coupe de Ville, a luxury boat you’d be embarrassed to be seen in.  It is a luxurious concert hall with ushers even stuffier than the seating.  It is, perhaps, the least rock’n’roll building in America, and we say that having never been to Branson, MO, but imagining just how awful it may be, or how bad it would be to see, say, the Clash play Vegas.

Some time ago, the Who played “Tommy” in opera houses, and there was a certain charm to such a mash-up.  This ain’t that.  This is sad.

If This Is Bowie’s Reading List, Wouldn’t You Love To See Eno’s?

Posted in Music with tags , on October 3, 2013 by johnbuckley100

We’re always a little suspicious of people who publish their long list of favorite books, as you know there have to be at least some chosen for effect.  But as a compendium of favorites go, this list of 100 books submitted by David Bowie is pretty great.

We wish he had listed Bellow’s Mr. Sammler’s Planet, instead of Herzog. But he sure picks the right Martin Amis novel when he cites Money.

All of the music histories listed, from Greil Marcus’s Mystery Train to Peter Guralnik’s Sweet Soul Music hit the spot, and there are some truly unexpected gems, like Jessica Mitford’s The American Way of Death, and that late-70s college fave, Julian Jaymes’ The Origins of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind.

Okay, it’s undoubtedly great that he has DeLillo’s White Noise, but it would have been so much better if he’d had Great Jones Street, with its evocation of a Dylan-like protagonist with the great rock star name of Bucky Wunderlick whose Basement Tapes analog is sought by one and all while he hides out in Lower Manhattan.  Or how about Running Dog, which is a play on a late ’70s Rolling Stone and the quest for a sex tape starring Hitler?

And where are Gravity’s Rainbow and Mason and Dixon?

Oh, that’s right, it’s his list, not mine.

Still, as rock star reading goes, this is all first rate.

And now from Brian Eno’s list…

Velvet Underground Continue To Empty The Cupboard

Posted in Music with tags , , on October 2, 2013 by johnbuckley100

Woo hoo. Now White Light/White Heat gets the three-CD treatment.  We can’t wait to hear the outtakes, but mostly we can’t wait to hear the live album, from 1967, that will see the first light of day.

Since the release last year of the complete The Velvet Underground & Nico offered so much archival goodness, we can only assume what follows: yep, a completists’ dream: a three-disk version of The Velvet Underground, which we’ve already had improved by the alternative vocal tracks in the “Closet Mix” on Peel Slowly And See.

And when we hear the new live album from ’67, bear in mind one of the great moments of kismet and contrast in rock’n’roll history: the cosmic joke that saw both Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and that first Velvets album released on the same day. While kids with longish hair everywhere were groking to the sounds of “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds,” somewhere on the Lower East Side Lou Reed was performing “Heroin” for 22 people.

This is going to be good.

 

David Lowery’s Fair Fight

Posted in Music with tags , , , , , on October 1, 2013 by johnbuckley100

The New York Times has an interesting piece today on David Lowery and his fight against the low-wage economics of being a musician in the age of Spotify and Pandora.  It references Lowery’s evisceration of that NPR intern who boasted last year that, while she loves music, she couldn’t imagine actually paying for all the songs on her hard drive, and reports on his lonely battle to get greater equity for musicians and songwriters who get paid fractions of a penny every time a song of theirs is played on Internet radio services.

In a wonderfully clueless and haughty dismissal of Lowery’s importance as an artist — “As the leader of the bands Camper Van Beethoven and Cracker, Mr. Lowery had a modicum of fame in the ’80s and ’90s” — Ben Sisario reveals the mindset of those who would view Lowery as merely a cranky old man (54) telling the kids not only to get off his lawn, but to pay up for apples they took while on his property.  Sisario does report fairly on the lonely battle Lowery is waging as a recording artist with the quaint belief that he ought to be paid for the music he’s produced — which just might happen to reside as a file on, well, some 20-year old NPR intern’s computer.  He accurately paints the portrait of his isolation.  But the tone of the piece is to look at Lowery like he’s some museum piece, an old coot, complaining about how he’s been ripped off.  We’ll remember this editorial stance the next time a New York Times editor whines about the Huffington Post.

What Lowery is attempting to do is bring facts, borne of his personal experience, so that people understand the low-wage serfdom to which Internet radio subjects recording artists.  As between outright stealing of music and services like Spotify, which at least pay artists a wage, however meager, obviously the latter is preferable.  The right way to think of Lowery’s campaign is as a fact-based effort to raise the wages of songwriters and recording artists.  One can dismiss him as a grumpy old man complaining about the post-Internet economy for musicians.  Or you can see him for what he is: one of the most enduring recording and live artists of our time who has the balls to mount a thankless fight seeking equity for artists currently subject to being paid in crumbs, if at all.

Will The Fresh & Onlys’ “Soothsayer” E.P. Be Tim Cohen’s Only Big Move In 2013?

Posted in Music with tags , , on September 30, 2013 by johnbuckley100

Last week, S.F. garage janglers The Fresh & Onlys put out a six-song E.P., their first new music since the Long Slow Dance came out last year.  Of course it took us a few days to get to it, given that we took Kelley Stoltz’s Double Exposure, some sandwiches and a jug of water down to the Situation Room, with its massive speakers and comfy couch, only to emerge days later with a smile and a few day’s growth on our face.  The new Soothsayer E.P. is further evidence that The Fresh & Onlys deserve to be considered one of the Bay Area’s major league acts, able to hold up their end of the bargain — albeit in a quieter, less propulsive manner than stalwarts like Ty Segall* (whose L.P. with his metal thrashers, Fuzz, is out tomorrow), Thee Oh Sees, and of course Kelley.

But may we issue this hope? Tim Cohen’s principal “other” band is Magic Trick, and to our ears, nothing he’s done with The Fresh & Onlys is as good as Magic Trick’s astonishing Ruler of The Night, which also came out last year.  If the pattern was set as one Fresh & Onlys album for every Magic Trick long player, then our expectation is that Magic Trick will now put out more music this year.  After all, we know from correspondent reports that Magic Trick played a few weeks ago in San Francisco, even as The F & Ts were gearing up to tour with Tulip Frenzy faves Woods.  And all you have to do is compare Magic Trick’s “Weird Memory” to anything by The Fresh & Onlys to grok why we’re rooting for that Tim Cohen project to get cracking.

* We don’t care whether Ty’s moved back to Southern California; he is, like Rice-a-roni, to be permanently associated with San Francisco.

Kelley Stoltz’s “Double Exposure” Has Been Released Into The Wild

Posted in Music with tags , , , , , on September 24, 2013 by johnbuckley100

Kelley Stoltz is so much more than the sum of his influences.  But honestly, even if all he were was the sum of his influences,  having such a sophisticated take on the songwriting of Ray Davies and Brian Wilson and Lennon/McCartney would make him A-OK in our book.

It’s when you consider the following that we actually start to wig out: he sings self-harmonies better than Steve Miller, he plays guitar like Dean Wareham’s long lost bro, and he does all this all by himself, not in a garage, but in what we imagine to be an antique-strewn atelier, a place of rare craftsmanship, like the last man on earth who can properly bind the books in which the secrets of rock’n’roll are kept, to be shared only with adepts.  (Perhaps this is the moment to thank Jack White for the generosity and good taste that led him to release Kelley Stoltz on his Third Man label.)

And now on the long-awaited Double Exposure, which is his tenth record, but more important than that, a record which upon early listens seems at least the equal of his magnificent 2008 release, Circular Sounds, he still has the capacity to surprise.  The title track is in a long line of exquisite Kelley Stoltz rockers; it could have easily been on 2010’s To Dreamers.  But it’s perhaps the only song on the album that doesn’t seem like a departure; throughout, Kelley reveals himself to be more ambitiously setting a bigger sail for a farther port.

Showing the influence — yeah, another influence — of his San Francisco chum, John Dyer, whose Thee Oh Sees are worlds apart from, and yet completely aligned with, Stoltz’s sensibilities — a band made for sweating on stage, for levitating roofs, even as they have a melodic streak wide as the Bay Bridge — on the nine-minute long “Inside My Head,” Stoltz builds a coiling, motorik riff until it gets released with precisely the ambient sounds of Fripp & Eno’s Evening Star.   Interestingly, that’s exactly what Thee Oh Sees did early this year on Floating Coffin‘s “Strawberries 1 + 2.”  We’re guessing they had an Evening Star listening party.  Or better yet, they didn’t have to.

Much has been made of the garage atmosphere in which so much of the great music that’s come out of the Bay Area lo these these past five years is steeped.  And while Stoltz has far more in common with Ty Segall and Thee Oh Sees than might be recognized by someone who isn’t a participant in that milieu, his channeling of the Kinks and the Beatles and Pet Sounds-era Brian Wilson does set him apart from the simplistic deshabille implied by “garage rock.”  Yet when you think of what that great pop craftsman Tim Presley is trying to accomplish with White Fence, what Tim Cohen is doing with Magic Trick (moreso than what he does with his other band, The Fresh and Onlys), Stoltz is revealed as both drinking from the same stream and replenishing it.

Want to see what all the fuss is about?  Want the ticket in?  Go listen to “Still Feel” from Double Exposure, which would seem to contain all of Kelley’s 10-album’s worth of accumulated charm in a single, six-minute goblet.  Aficionados will grok to the considerably better sound quality than has heretofore been served up.  Yes, even when Kelley Stoltz records have have been lower-fi than Tom Thumb they have always been Semper Fi with sonic gorgeousness.  But this sounds as if, though he may be recording at home, someone’s rewired the place.  He is clearly — true anecdote — no longer propping up the mike in his top drawer and leaning over to sing into it; someone — Jack White? — has at least bought him a mike stand.

If there were a Venn Diagram, and on the left side were all of the world’s elect who already know how great Kelley Stoltz albums are, and on the right side were all of Tulip Frenzy’s legions’o’fans, in the middle, clearly, would be the coolest cats in the land.  Our abiding wish would be to move more of you on the right side leftward into the red hot middle.  (We wouldn’t mind if some the folks on the left moved to right, too.)  We consider it our civic duty to introduce more people to Kelley Stoltz’s music.  Only time will tell if Double Exposure proves to be as great as Circular Sounds or Below The Branches.  So far, just a few hours of non-stop playing in, we love it.  We can’t imagine you’ll ever regret taking the plunge.

@johnbuckley100

The Fall’s Great Brix Smith Has A Surprising Second Act

Posted in Music with tags , , , on September 19, 2013 by johnbuckley100

Long before The Dandy Warhols would yearn for “A Girl As Cool As Kim Deal,” there was Brix Smith.  In the entire, 35+-year run of The Fall, by far the best period were those years — 1983-1989 — when Brix Smith played lead guitar and sang in her husband Mark E. Smith’s band.

And there you kind of have it, right?  The two best bands from the 1980s, The Fall and The Pixies, both represented by iconic women.  Brix was pretty, sexy, competent on guitar, and when she was in the band, the Fall were amazing.  The Wonderful and Frightening World Of The Fall was the high point, for us at least, of mid-’80s music, though we’d love to have a barroom debate over whether it was better than The Nation’s Saving Grace and Bend Sinister, which followed it.  Brix was the driver of those great riffs, from “Cruisers Creek” to “L.A.”, but she also sang just enough that the strange, barking, white rapper’s vocals that erupted from her husband somehow went down a little easier.  And when she left the band, both our attention and the band’s performance drifted.

And now The New York Times has done a profile of Brix, who these days is a fashion star in London.  Who knew?  And who knew, actually, that she was a 19-year old Bennington girl, there concurrently with Jonathan Lethem, when she foisted a cassette of her band in Mark E. Smith’s hands — we can see his buzzard’s eye being raised as a pretty young American college girl comes on to Smith, who even then was a creepy misanthrope — and a short time later found herself in the lineup of the premier punk band of its day.

It’s a great piece, this profile on Brix, and a great story.  Even greater was the music, and that she now seems like a character out of Ab Fab is just plain funny.  So yeah, before rockers wanted to date a girl as cool as Kim Deal, there was Brix Smith.  And we’re glad she’s back, and doing well, and happy for the memories of when she was an integral part of the mid-’80s best band working.