Author: jeremyfingertips

“This Life” – La Rocca

A comfy stomp of a piano riff leads, brain-buzzingly, into a song as brash as it is cheerful, as expansive as it is, also, introspective. This young Irish band will bring some inevitable early-U2 comparisons, both for the country of origin and for singer/guitartist Bjorn Baillie’s semi-resemblance to a young Bono. But the comparison doesn’t hold for long, to my ears. There’s some deep-seated, rather un-U2-like awareness of down-and-dirty classic rock suffusing the groove these guys lay down here, to begin with. And anyway, this quartet isn’t quite so Irish as all that—one of them is from England, they started playing together in Cardiff (in Wales, you know), and have actually been living in L.A. for a while now. “This Life” is a track from the band’s debut full-length CD, The Truth, due out in August on Danger Bird Records. The MP3 is courtesy of the Danger Bird site.

“Too Much Space” – Lisa Germano

With its sad, rich, reversing arpeggios, “Too Much Space” has the beautiful-doleful vibe of one of Tom Waits’ ballads-gone-awry. Germano’s voice of course is far prettier than his (whose isn’t?), but she’s got a deep ache in it as well, and offers idiosyncratic touches that give the proceedings a Waitsian sense of the off-kilter. Her evocative violin adds one mournful flavor; the feedbacky guitars that enter in the second half of the song—screaming like disintegrating aliens during certain moments—add another perhaps less expected one. Having written personally, almost uncomfortably, about love and addiction on previous albums, Germano is apparently tackling death this time around, on her wonderfully-titled In the Maybe World CD, to be released next week on Young God Records. She’s traveled a long and winding road since her commercial heyday as John Mellencamp’s violinist, but it seems one of her own choosing and I for one hang on her every word at this point. The MP3 is available via the Young God web site. Many thanks to the sabas.jud.as blog for the head’s up.

“Postcards From Italy” – Beirut

Probably not enough rock songs begin with a strumming ukelele. And that’s not nearly the most charming/unexpected instrumental flourish in Beirut’s bag of tricks. You get horns, you get tambourines, you get a brisk two-step rhythm, you get appealingly old-fashioned melodies, and best of all you get singer/mastermind Zach Condon, all of 20 years old (actually 19 when he recorded this), sounding for all the world like a cross between Rudy Vallee and Morrissey. So, yes, it’s kind of another one-man-band thing, but Condon first of all believes solidly in organic instruments (no laptop rock for him), and he also believes in recruiting talent—Neutral Milk Hotel’s Jeremy Barnes, most notably, who offers up a serious hodgepodge of old-country percussion, crucial to the endearingly Eastern European sound Condon has almost inexplicably concocted. Condon is from Albuquerque and now lives in Brooklyn; he left college after one day and went instead to live in Europe. In Amsterdam he was accidentally exposed to Balkan brass music (it’s a long story) and the rest is now indie-pop musical history. “Postcards From Italy,” careening around the blogosphere since the spring, is a track off Beirut’s debut CD, Gulag Orkestar, released in May on Ba Da Bing! Records. The MP3 is available via the band’s site.

“Ta Douleur” – Camille

Here’s a song that’s simultaneously really funky and really cute–and let’s face it, not a whole lot of funky music over the years could also be called cute. Camille (she’s from France, where it’s pronounced “cam-EE”) is best known in the U.S. for being one of the alluring voices on the oddly appealing Nouvelle Vague CD (the one where ’80s new wave singles were reimagined as bossa-nova-tinged lounge songs); over there she quickly parlayed the success into a high-flying solo career. I love the timbre in her voice, and how willingly she stretches it in all directions–down so low the notes reduce to a dusky whisper, up high for accents sweet and sailing. And then of course there’s when she abandons singing altogether for a wide range of percussive sounds, which come in an impressive range of gasps, raspberries, and unnameable ululations. Voice and hand-claps in fact make up most of the “instrumentation” here, prompting the music critic community to a) immediately compare her to Björk (because of Medulla, the Icelandic wonder’s a capella album) and b) dismiss her as a simple-minded Björk knockoff (largely because Medulla is an often difficult listen while Camille’s music strikes everyone as catchy and pleasant). Never mind most of these same critics at the time berated Björk for her self-absorbed difficulty. Never mind that Björk (whom I love dearly by the way) did not invent percussive a capella singing. I invite one and all, as always, to listen with ears; it’s no crime to succumb to charm, and almost impossible, I think, not to during the closing half minute when a quiet bridge section turns into a wide-open, beat-crazy hoedown, complete with (I think!) trombone. “Ta Douleur” comes from the CD Le Fil, which was released in 2005 in France on Virgin France; it was released in the U.S. earlier this month on EMI’s Narada label. Thanks again to Getecho for the lead.

“Kurt’s Theme” – Foma

As intense and urgent as it is likewise good-natured and ramshackle, “Kurt’s Theme” features a melody that I fear will lodge in your head rather too firmly after you’ve heard it a couple of times. With prominent strings and a profusion of minor chords, the song might veer towards melodrama were it not for a concurrent sense of playfulness that gives me the sense of its having been constructed with masking tape and styrofoam (I mean this in a good way)–the different elements jammed against each other in the hope that it all somehow holds together. Hear that portentous orchestral drive? Oops, it stops on a dime for a quiet section suddenly sung by a female vocalist, which leads into a pretty section with a plaintive violin motif, which (oh no!) runs headfirst into a peremptory blast of spastic guitar. That kind of thing. Foma is sort of a band, and sort of not a band, anchored by Edward Burch and based in the happening musical town of Albuquerque, New Mexico. “Kurt’s Theme” is a song from the quirky concept CD Phobos, recorded with seven musicians and released locally this spring on Little Kiss Records, an Albuquerque-based label. The release went nationwide earlier this month. The MP3 is available via the band’s site.

“Second Best Death” – Maybe Smith

So we’ve heard the staticky, squeaky-clackety electronics before, we’ve seen the one-man, laptop-generated bedroom rock thing before, and let me first say that there’s nothing wrong with having heard something before. So-called “innovation” is way overvalued in our 24/7 world; we all want the newest, while overlooking the fact that a far more important value than “new” is “good” and that they are not always the same. But then the lap steel guitar comes in and okay, I’ve got to hand it to Colin Skrapek, the Canadian here doing musical business as Maybe Smith: that’s a new one. But (remember, this is more important) it’s good, too. What’s even better is the entire song, with its lovely melodies, touching harmonies, and subtle hints of Elvis Costello in his songwriting heyday–in word choice, vocal tone, and musical sturdiness alike. “Second Best Death” is the title track to a seven-song EP released earlier this year on his own, Saskatoon-based Sir, Handsome Records. The MP3 is available via the Sir, Handsome web site. Much obliged to Sixeyes for the lead.

“Colorguard” – Division Day

An insistent drive, accentuated first by a wash of reverberating synths and then a searing guitar line, gives “Colorguard” some good hard substance; at the same time there’s a great warm softness at its core too, in the form of singer Rohner Stegnitz’s dulcet tenor, and the beautiful repeating melody in the chorus. There’s nothing too complicated going on here, but that’s really part of the effectiveness of this song. What I like is how I can clearly hear its various parts–the subtle, affecting octave harmonies once the second verse starts, the clear contribution of the bass, the clean, stratospheric lead guitar lines. I’m thinking that a lot of times, this sort of song (whatever sort of song it is) and this sort of music (again, whatever you might call it) often gets harmed by a sort of “piling on” that goes on in the recording studio. Great structures of amorphous sounds are constructed, and it can be cool in its own way, but sometimes it’s cool too to be able to hear everyone. The stronger the song, the more it’s okay. Division Day is a quartet from California; “Colorguard” is a song off the band’s debut full-length CD, Beartrap Island, self-released this spring. The MP3 is via the band’s site.

“Harrowdown Hill” – Thom Yorke

I don’t know if I’ve ever heard such a funky riff used at the core of such an un-funky song; this is not nearly the most significant thing going on, but it may be the easiest to notice; and it may be more significant than it at first seems. What Yorke is doing here is as mysterious as it is marvelous, combining disparate elements (funky guitar, programmed beats, sustained synthesizer, tense lyrics) into a completely cohesive and moving piece of music. (The song addresses a tragic, Iraq-related controversy in the U.K., involving a former UN weapons inspector who apparently killed himself–though some believe otherwise–after unintentionally finding himself in the middle of a political scandal.) In taking a much-publicized break from his day job as Radiohead’s frontman, Yorke has, to my ears, redefined the idea of what a singer/songwriter–it feels weird to call him that but that’s what he is here–can do. “Harrowdown Hill” has the beating (and aching) heart of a traditional, organic song, and yet is presented in an all-out, 21st-century sonic landscape. Two aspects of the song strike me as key to its haunting success: one is the synthesizer that plays an offbeat but continuous pattern of single notes sustained typically for seven or eight seconds at a time, in a muted yet majestic, organ-like tone; the other is Yorke’s voice, which is rather naked and up front, draped with maybe a slight echo to fit in to the electronic vibe but also fragile and shakily human. “Harrowdown Hill” is a track from Yorke’s highly-anticipated CD, The Eraser, to be released in July on XL Recordings. MP3 available via Ampcamp.

“Scene It All Before” – the Minor Leagues

Any band seeking to sound like “Ray Davies fronting the Clash with Phil Spector on production” (as per the web site) is going to get my attention quickly, and that is apparently what singer/keyboardist Ben Walpole has in mind for the Minor Leagues, give or take the quartet’s own individual sense of do-it-yourself quirkiness. In any case, “Scene It All Before” is a breezy yet satisfyingly chewy morsel of pop goodness, from its nostalgic horn charts to its grand swinging chorus and its intermittently goofy background vocals. Like any number of great old Kinks songs, this one has three solid, well-put-together parts; I particularly like how the melody in the chorus spills over its expected container, blurring the distinction between measures in a loose-limbed and agreeable way. And I will say that Walpole does manage to sound eerily like a cross between Davies and Mick Jones–especially eerie for a guy from Cincinnati. “Scene It All Before” is a track off the CD The Pestlience is Coming, which was self-released last week. The MP3 is available via the band’s site.

“Benton Harbor Blues” – the Fiery Furnaces

A brother-sister band known for idiosyncratic experimentation here delivers a delightful piece of almost classic-sounding pop (copping the keyboard and/or bass riff from the Four Tops strikes me as a neat touch). The fact that the Furnaces have revealed the capacity to spin out something this traditionally appealing (even if it is a remix) changes everything, to me. It’s just like knowing Picasso could draw beautifully when he wanted to; that he could and chose not to makes all the difference. In any case, everything else I’ve heard from the Fiery Furnaces (which I may go back and listen to again) has struck me as almost perversely odd (music critics like to call this “challenging”). But here they are, chugging to a keyboard-filled Motowny groove sounding both at home and still (if you listen closely) satisfyingly edgy. The drums have a pasted-on electronic itch to them that tells you this is more than a nostalgia trip, and singer Eleanor Friedberger’s delicious, drip-dry delivery has no reason to sound so good in this context but boy does it. Don’t miss the mini keyboard concert that arrives at around 1:56, which features both ghostly flourishes and an organ-like series of ascensions and descensions. “Benton Harbor Blues” is, from what I’ve read, pretty much of an anomaly on their latest CD, Bitter Tea, which was released in April on Fat Possum Records; the rest of the disc is apparently still odd, including the original version of this same song. The MP3 is available via Fat Possum Better Propaganda.

“Anti-Anti” – Snowden

Hard-driving and precise, “Anti-Anti” displays some characteristics of what is too typically (and unfortunately) called “post-punk” (its own sort of “town that makes no sense”), but I like the sonic elements this Atlanta-based quartet brings to the sound, including maybe most of all that beat-breaking synth-like guitar line (or is it a guitar-like synthesizer?) heard first at the end of the intro, and later on as well. Okay, perhaps it seems like a small and potentially random touch, but as it resurfaces it becomes its own sort of left-field hook in the context of the fuzzy, slashing, quasi-funk on display. Singer Jordan Jeffares sounds at once breathless and blase–an unusual, even uneasy combination–and the lyrical snippets that smack you as they go by only add to the vague tension. “Anti-Anti” is the title track to the band’s debut CD, scheduled for release in August on Jade Tree Records. The MP3 comes via the Jade Tree site.

“Death of the Party” – the Keene Brothers

Sounding like Michael Stipe’s long-lost brother, Robert Pollard has out-R.E.M.’ed R.E.M. with this lovely but typically inscrutable song. Just go ahead and try to listen to and make sense of the lyrics, if you can even understand them. But no matter at all: when the smoothly jangly verse opens into the chorus, it’s like being bathed by sunlight after a cool rain. Pollard, for the uninitiated, spent years as the prolific mastermind behind the Ohio-based proto-indie band, Guided By Voices. I couldn’t make heads or tails of those guys most of the time; I was pretty sure that among the 30 or so tracks on each of their 900 albums were buried treasures I’d never have the fortitude to discover. Since GBV disbanded in 2004, Pollard has merely gotten more spread out, but no less prolific, and no more understandable. “Death of the Party” is a song from the album he recorded with the relentlessly unknown but highly regarded Tommy Keene under the name of the Keene Brothers, entitled Blues and Boogie Shoes; this is however merely one of three collaborative CDs Pollard is simultaneously releasing this month as part of something he calls the “Fading Captain” series. He’s lost me logistically, but musically, for this one, I’m right on board–it’s a beauty. The MP3 is hosted via the old Guided By Voices web site, which still operates. Inscrutably.

In honor of Memorial Day here in the U.S., and honoring too a personal need to take some space and regroup a bit, there will be no weekly update next week (the week of May 28-June 3). The site will be up and running as of May 29 but I will use the week to tend to many things that need tending, taking the week off from the three-song update. The next “This Week’s Finds” update will appear on Sunday, June 4. Be sure to keep visiting for other updates and news!

“Lovers Who Uncover” – the Little Ones

The introduction is all I need with this one: the ascending, slightly distorted ringing guitar doing that fast alternating one-two rhythm thing–well, just forget the description, I’ve already mutilated the pop beauty of it all. And, sure, it’s simple stuff at its core, three adjacent notes, just me-fa-sol in disguise, but they ring out an eternal truth, and if you’re a high-quality pop junkie you know transcendence when you hear it. So okay yeah then there’s more to the song than the introduction of course, and the next thing I love to death are the vocals. I don’t really know who’s doing what, the Little Ones being an L.A. band that doesn’t relinquish a lot of personal information, but whoever is singing has that keening high-register voice that sounds full of substance, like a lower voice, rather than airy and irresolute, like many falsettos do. And what, class, is the most unusual thing going on in this shiny happy little number? There’s no chorus to speak of. Go figure: power pop with a killer verse, not a killer chorus. Who’d have thought? “Lovers Who Uncover” is a song from the band’s self-released debut EP; the MP3 is available via the band’s site. Thanks to Bruce at Some Velvet Blog for the lead.

“With My Eyes” – Our Lady of Bells

Another great intro, this one beginning with an acoustic guitar picking out alternately major and minor chords in three-quarter time, soon to be joined by what sounds like both an electric guitar and a bass, each plucking incomplete phrases in musical proximity, setting a subtly tense stage for a really nice lead guitar line, chiming out its syncopated theme with bittersweet majesty. Guitarist and songwriter Jules Gimbrone sings with an air of regret and entirely without pretense, letting the strength of the timeless, sea-charged melody pull us along, rough spots in her singing voice be damned. Her singing is but a part of an air of unpolishedness that hard-nosed lo-fi folks may actually see as a positive; I tend not to in general, but the material is compelling enough to keep me with it–the song acquires a weary and quite beautiful momentum as it rolls along. I suspect the group has much to offer moving forward. Based in Northampton, Massachusetts, Our Lady of Bells began in 2004 as a duo and has added three members along the way. “With My Eyes” can be found on the band’s first full-length CD, Forgetting the Way Home, released earlier this month. The MP3 is via the band’s site.

“Mountain” – 1888

So it’s cool introduction week, it seems. Check this one out: all beats and twitches, but as I listen it manages to sound, somehow, like electronica done by hand, with organic instruments. (It may not be, but the itchy, clicky vibe has a particularly hand-hewn quality.) We are thereby led into a song that presents, to my ears, one of the most intriguing uses I’ve heard of electronica-style beats and/or samples in a song that really doesn’t sound like electronica at all. On top of a precise blend of well-placed tweets and twiddles and buzzings is crafted something else entirely, although I’m not exactly sure what this something else is. The ultimate impression is the kind of sonic deconstruction that brings Wilco to mind, even though this doesn’t really sound much like Wilco either. Check out that lugubrious organ coloring the deep end; and as for singer/songwriter Brad Rosenberg, there’s nothing remotely techno about him–he sounds like a guy from a rock band who doesn’t understand something that happened to him (like many guys in rock bands). Hailing from Norfolk, Virginia, 1888 was almost a collective rather than a band in its early days (late ’90s), with a rotating series of players coming and going as required, as the spirit moved, to record in the studio. Solidifying as a quartet to hit the road as a live act, the band now plans to release its first full-length CD later this year; “Mountain” is originally from an EP released in 2003 called Panda. The MP3 is up on the band’s site.

“The Gate” – Sam Roberts Band

There’s something expansively old-fashioned about the Sam Roberts Band—five scruffy Canadian guys with long hair and any number of beards, they seem to be doing rock’n’roll like it used to be done (this is not a jam band, thank you very much), without sounding quite exactly like any classic rock outfit you can put your finger on. “The Gate” opens slowly, building from an organ sustain, a psychedelic bass line, and a glistening guitar that approaches steadily with spidery noodlings. Around 1:10 it bangs into place, driving forward with a late-’60s/early’-70s vibe; Roberts himself has something of David Gilmour’s haunting vocal depth, lending a Floyd-like oomph to the semi-Steve Miller-y proceedings (listen especially to the vocals in the quiet bridge section that starts at around 3:12). “The Gate” is the lead track from the band’s new CD, Chemical City, being released in the U.S. this week under the Secret Brain/Fontana imprint, which I can’t figure out at all. The MP3 is available via Filter Magazine.

“Malherido” – Juana Molina

The wondrously subtle, subtly magical Molina was one of the very first artists featured on Fingertips back in 2003; arrival of new music from this acclaimed Argentinian is big news here. I think you have to slow down a bit to sink into her soundscapes; throw too many things in the multi-task pile while you’re listening and the song—all rubbery synths, skittery boops, whispery vocals, and stray animal noises—might not register at all. The breathy but sturdy character in her voice is one hand-hold into her world: she sounds rather scarily like two of my top five all-time female singers put together (that’d be Jane Siberry and Kirsty MacColl), and there’s a whole lot in the musical if not vocal vibe that reminds me of another (Björk). “Malherido” is a song from Molina’s upcoming CD, her third; it’s called Son (in Spanish: “They Are”) and will be released in early June on Domino Records. The MP3 comes via the Domino web site.

“Too Much Space To Walk Away” – Avocadoclub

As smooth, catchy, and vaguely disaffected as an old Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark single. This has all the earmarks of a great floaty synth-pop hit but the really cool thing is they’re not really using a heck of a lot of synthesizers; the acoustic guitars are actually more prominent. Most of the effect, I think, is coming from the layered majesty of Bendrik Muhs’ vocals, and the use of a New Order-style lower-register lead guitar line. Muhs has the ability to sound both pretty and weary, like Ben Gibbard doing a Lou Reed impression; his aching delivery of the sweeping chorus is big-time pop heaven. Avocadoclub is an English-language band from Berlin; there appear to be two guys at the heart of it, but they’ve fleshed out into a five-piece band for the debut CD. “Too Much Space to Walk Away” was the title track on the band’s second EP, released in 2002; it has shown up as well on the debut full-length, entitled Everybody’s Wrong, which was released in March on Firestation Records. Thanks much, yet again, to Getecho for the lead.

“Thursday” – Asobi Seksu

Gorgeous gorgeous high-volume rock’n’roll—play it loud and feel your heart burst with pleasure and wonder. Yeah it’s pretty much that good (and be sure to go back after you’re done and re-listen to the quiet beginning; it’s there for a reason). While this talented NYC quartet owes some of its sonic foundation to Blondie’s indelible, pioneering sound, Asobi Seksu seem at the same time to have found something deep and moving within a place Debby Harry and company sought, mostly, irony and distance (not that there was anything wrong with that!). Lead vocalist Yuki sings with warmth and a sneaky range, moving seamlessly into a yearning, substantive falsetto for that great major-to-minor melody shift in the chorus. Her able bandmates both mirror and amplify her dynamic range—together, they’re not just loud, not just soft, not just pretty, not just noisy, but instead create a thoroughly engaging and skillful blend of different sounds, textures, and ideas. And while we may all yet get tired of the reverb-laced sound characterizing a lot of the best rock’n’roll of our new century, right now it keeps seeming to work, in this case contributing to a wash of heavenly sound out of which unfolds a gem that feels at once very familiar and, in its own way, pioneering. “Thursday” is a track from the band’s long-awaited (by me, at least!) second CD, Citrus, scheduled for release at the end of the month on Friendly Fire Recordings. The MP3 is available via Insound.

“So I” – Tobias Fröberg

While “Simon & Garfunkel meets Ron Sexsmith” might be a fast and reasonably valid way of summing up this song, I hesitate to offer it because I have heard a few too many bands or singer/songwriters over the past few years who have prompted comparisons to Simon & Garfunkel, typically based on the presence of delicate acoustic guitar picking and whispery harmonies. Too often however these musicians lack a crucial part of the S&G sound, which is (easier said than done, I know!) having memorable songs. To compare anyone to Simon & Garfunkel (or Ron Sexsmith, for that matter) who is singing a well-intentioned but (let’s be honest) boring song renders the comparison pretty much pointless. No worries here, however, as Fröberg manages first of all to be singing a memorable song–courtesy of its simple but appealing double-descending melody and a gratifying amount of subtle movement. I like too that Fröberg and collaborator Linus Larsson add some cool stuff of their own, like the forthright electric guitar used throughout as a sort of color commentator to the underlying drive of the acoustic picking. “So I” is a song from Fröberg’s CD For Elisabeth Wherever She Is (note S&G-related title!), released on Silence Records in Sweden late in 2004, and a winner of a national award for best singer/songwriter album in 2005. A new CD entitled Somewhere in the City will be released shortly in Scandanavia; apparently he has just been signed to Cheap Lullaby Records in the U.S., so we’ll see if that increases his profile here a bit as the year unfolds. Thanks to Hedvika at the recently renamed Getecho blog for the lead.

“Adventure” – Be Your Own Pet

Channeling Bow Wow Wow with great, vibrant, new-century spirit comes a group of teenagers from Nashville with the kind of glorious, in-the-moment song that proves absolutely nothing about their long-term talent or viability, nor should it. (Bow Wow Wow’s Annabella Lwin was herself 14 when that band broke; she’s 40 now, which is weird, but I digress.) Singer Jemina (yeah, -na) Pearl sings with the same sort of un-self-conscious abandon as Lwin back in the day, and apparently this song is reasonably tame for her. Not sure I’ll care much for the wilder, unrepressed punk-ish side of what these guys do, but in this case (am I repeating myself yet?) I’m hearing a really strong song underneath the okay-I-can-scream-and-curse bravado—an unexpectedly full and satisfying less-than-two-and-a-half-minute tornado of rhythmic hooks and gleefully slashing guitars. Beware, by the way, the dark energy of the hype/backlash cycle when it comes to Be Your Own Pet, which seems already to have swirled around and back if you spend too much time in the blogosphere (hint: don’t spend too much time in the blogosphere!); some part of their story has something to do with parents in the music industry, but me I just try as usual to listen with my ears, and my ears say: “Hey! Kinda cool!” Or they would if they had a mouth. “Adventure” is a song from the band’s self-titled debut CD, which was released in the U.K. in March on XL Recordings and is due out early next month in the U.S. on Universal (note the big record company, which certainly has something to do with the fury of the aforementioned hype/backlash cycle).

“Stay” – Marykate O’Neil

There have been at least four excellent songs with the same one-word title in modern pop history (I’m partial to Bowie’s, and the Blue Nile’s); it takes a bit of nervy self-assurance to offer up yet another, but as I listen to O’Neil’s voice, its rich tone equal parts passion and nonchalance, I’m thinking that here’s a singer/songwriter not lacking in nervy self-assurance. (I mean that as a compliment, by the way.) And why not another “Stay”?—the word, come to think of it, is one of the English language’s more emotionally resonant verbs, a four-letter subtext festival laden with implied connection, desire, and conflict. In any case, O’Neil’s “Stay” has the crisp, instantly likable propulsiveness of a classic pop hit, its sparkly, syncopated rhythm ably accented by a jangly guitar and, later on, an almost demonic violin. There’s something in the slightly nasally roundness of her voice that brings Aimee Mann to mind, which isn’t a bad thing; an even better thing is that the song has more open-hearted spirit than a lot of Mann’s able but same-sounding output has managed in recent years. “Stay” can be found on O’Neil’s new CD, 1-800-Bankruptcy, which will be released electronically tomorrow on Nettwerk Records, and physically on O’Neil’s own 71 Recordings imprint. The MP3 is available via O’Neil’s web site.

“Book of Matches” – A Passing Feeling

As the original punk era ricocheted into the original new wave era, this was the sort of song that was in the air: a short, triumphant bit of sweat and booze and bluster. My heart will ever have a big sloppy soft spot for songs with two separate hooks; that this NYC-based foursome delivers two great hooks in a song not even two and a half minutes long is all but insane. The first hook, 18 seconds in, starting with the words “So in taking you back to the scene of the crime,” has something of the unbridled melodicism of early Elvis Costello, fully utilizing all seven notes of the scale in a delightful four-measure outburst. (Think in contrast to how many pop hits of recent decades employ often as few as three or four discrete notes in their hooks, if you can call them hooks.) On the heels of hook number one, singer Brian Miltenberg spits out the second hook in the glorious chorus, which is, rather delightfully, a throwback melody straight from the ’50s, but sped up and thrashed through, as if the Ramones had attacked doo-wop instead of the Brill Building with their black-leather buzzsaw. For all of this song’s brevity there’s something monumental brewing in its sonic onslaught; I sure hope someone somewhere is blaring this out a dorm window on a blue, flowery day this spring. “Book of Matches” is one of five songs on A Passing Feeling’s self-titled debut EP, released back in December on 75 or Less Records. The MP3 is courtesy of the band’s site.

“Let’s Get Out of This Country” – Camera Obscura

While new bands are always a kick to discover, there’s something to be said for not-new-anymore bands as well. The Scottish sextet Camera Obscura has been around since 1996, and there’s nothing like a history together to give a band’s sound genuine weight and substance. “Let’s Get Out of This Country” wraps its arms around me with a winning combination of spaciousness and intimacy—the sound is ever so large, with those bashing drumbeats and sweeping waves of strings, all bathed in glossy reverb, and yet listen to how each melodic line ends with that introspective descending third, and listen too to the soft pretty ache in Tracyanne Campbell’s lilting voice. She sounds like someone spinning gently in her room, humming to herself. Often the swelling strings compete with her words—you know she’s there but aren’t quite privy to what she’s saying. Then, at a point when we might expect a bridge (from about 1:35 to 1:50), the music pulls back and we hear Campbell singing more or less alone against the drumbeat; the effect is particularly magical and melancholy. “Let’s Get Out of This Country” is the title track of the band’s forthcoming CD, due out in June on Merge Records.