Category: MP3s

“For Emma” – Bon Iver

“For Emma” has the steady, wistful ambiance of a determined trudge through the snow on a bright winter’s day to fetch something you know in your heart isn’t going to be there. Electric guitar lines bend languidly around crisp acoustic guitar chords, sleepy horns offer echoey punctuations in the background, and then, steadiest and wistful-iest of all, there’s Justin Vernon–doing musical business as Bon Iver–with his mournful yet adamant falsetto telling some difficult to pin down tale of past love gone (probably) wrong. It’s a song at once engaging and elusive: search past the meaty chorus and nicely textured atmosphere and listen for what’s there (listen, for one, to how the electric guitar and the horns intertwine sonically) and then also what’s not there. Beyond the chorus, and a brief wordless section near the end, Vernon opens his mouth only to sing two lyrical lines separated by a measure of music, and we hear them just twice. Which is to say the song marches along pretty much without any real verses. No wonder it sounds wistful. Vernon recorded this album holed up by himself in a cabin in the woods in the Wisconsin winter, in the wake of the dissolution of his former band, DeYarmond Edison. (No wonder he sounds wistful.) The haunted falsetto is new for this project, which gets its name from the French greeting “Good winter,” although Vernon chose to leave off the silent “h” from hiver. “For Emma” is the semi-title track from the first Bon Iver CD, For Emma, Forever Ago, which was self-released in July.

“Quit While You’re Ahead” – Southeast Engine

This one has a satisfying bottom-heaviness to it, due to a few different things I’m hearing: first, what sounds like a snare-free drum kit; second, the band’s refreshing emphasis of the electric guitar’s lower register; and then also the minor key in which the song is set. Southeast Engine is a six-man band but at their core they are led by guitartist/singer Adam Remnant (apparently an out of work middle school teacher) and drummer/percussionist Leo DeLuca, and I think the drum and guitar really drive the sound more than in most larger outfits–both of them play with a loose intensity that doesn’t mistake muscle for bashing or rhythm for uniformity. The verses are dominated by the pulsing tom-tom, and some atmospheric guitar work, while Remnant, singing, withholds a bit, a tremulous edge to his voice. At the chorus, the song opens out dramatically, with its one-note lyrical lines enhanced by a phalanx of vocal harmonies, which sound both shouted and turned down at the same time, and its ominous message about the poisoning of our public sphere with lies and deception. Southeast Engine is from Athens–Ohio, not Georgia–but like its more well-known counterpart, also a college town with a spirited music scene. “Quit While You’re Ahead” is a song from the band’s new CD, A Wheel Within a Wheel, their third full-length, due out next week on Misra Records. The MP3 is via the band’s site.

“Pluto” – Clare & the Reasons

Check out the earnest-goofy orchestral setting this one leaps from the starting gates with: all twittering pizzicatos, like some misplaced radio advertisement from the 1940s—pretty hard, I think, not to be charmed. (One of the things that rock’n’roll has yet to learn from classical music is that music can, in fact, instrumentally, be funny, can bring a smile to the face.) And then when Clare Muldaur Manchon starts cooing those earnest-goofy lyrics directly to the icy, undersized, woebegone, no-longer-a-planet, well, this one’s a slam dunk, to my ears. “Pluto, I have some frightful news, dear,” she begins—and lord, how about that blissful glide from the major to the minor chord as she eases from “news” to “dear,” beginning at 0:22; be still my heart! And it’s not just Muldaur who’s charming us—she’s got a coterie of able musicians along for this retro-groovy space ride, including backup singers who deliver jazzy accents and nifty three- (I think) part harmonies, an economical but vivid piano player, and a drummer offering some lovely muted drumming, all the while accompanied by those strings, who pluck and bow as required by the inventive arrangements. Manchon is the daughter of ’60s music stalwart Geoff Muldaur; her husband, Olivier, is one of the seven members of the ensemble (he plays violin, piano, and saw). “Pluto” is the lead track on the band’s debut CD, The Movie, released on Frog Stand Records, a label started by Manchon and a friend of hers from her Berklee School of Music days. Thanks to 3hive for this one.

THIS WEEK’S FINDS
Sept. 30-Oct. 6

* There’s still time to enter the Ani DiFranco contest, but don’t delay. The grand prize is Canon, the nicely-packaged, hand-picked two-disc DiFranco retrospective. Two runners-up will receive a copy of Fingertips: Unwebbed, which will disappear from the shelves here at year’s end. There are also five prints of Ani DiFranco artwork available both for the grand prize winner, the runners-up, and two others. So five winners in all! Deadline for entry is Tuesday, October 2.

* The Record Shop is now open for business: a page of links taking you directly to where you can buy some of the albums mentioned here week to week (and support Fingertips in the process).

“Adrenaline” – Emma Pollock
Emma Pollock has this heart-rending way of singing happy songs with a sad voice. “This adrenaline rush is keeping me high/Keep it coming around”: sure sounds happy. (Sounds like a Phillies fan, I might add.) No doubt the bright piano chords sound happy as well. But her voice has too rich a texture for simple happiness–there’s a subtle and soulful abrasion in it, and its substance seems fueled by breath, if that makes any sense. Cross a drawl-free Lucinda Williams with Harriet Wheeler of the Sundays and you’re pretty close. In any case, scratch below the surface of the chipper accompaniment and inspirational lyrical snippets and you may both sense and hear that “Adrenaline” is more about life than happiness: there are wonders to be had, but only if you work to get out of your own way, and understand that they often come wrapped in unpredictable packages. “Adrenaline” can be found on Watch the Fireworks, the long-awaited solo debut by the former Delgados singer and guitarist, released in mid-September on 4AD Records. For more information about Pollock, (and to hear another great song of hers) check out the TWF review of “Limbs,” released long before the CD arrived, from this past February. The “Adrenaline” MP3 comes via Insound.

“He Keeps Me Alive” – Sally Shapiro
Crystalline neo-italo disco from an enigmatic Swede who protects her privacy by forswearing face-to-face interviews and live performances, and by singing under an English-sounding pseudonym. (She is also more the voice than the creative force; Johan Agebjörn is the writer and producer of “Sally Shapiro” music.) And let me quickly add that whatever your preconceived notions about dance music may be (rock’n’roll has always had a testy relationship with dance music, even though rock itself more or less began as dance music), I suggest giving this one a fair shot and actively seeking out its various charms, which include, most prominently: Shapiro’s icy-warm, doubletracked delivery; the pristine sonic atmosphere (this song is the musical equivalent of a meticulously cleaned and dusted room, all silver and white, with blonde woods, in the winter sun); and the sweeping and yet controlled melodrama of the chorus, both musically and lyrically. For the heck of it, check out also the piano-like keyboard that comes in around 1:55, a startling bit of organic-seeming sound in a cascade of beats and synthesizers. Shapiro may be on the verge of having a blog-rock cultural moment, though it could also be that the moment, because it’s about to be here, has actually already passed. You know how it goes. “He Keeps Me Alive” is a song from Shapiro’s CD Disco Romance, which was out last year in Europe, and will be released in North America this month by Paper Bag Records. MP3 via Paper Bag.

“Anna Leigh” – the Sadies
And the perfect counter-balance to neo-italo-disco is probably something gritty and bluegrassy like this–although note that the boys in the band start this one off kinda smooth-like, with pretty harmonies (note, too, however, the wavery organ sound: all is not necessarily well). Soon enough, in any case, the finger-picking beat kicks in and we’re all minor-key and traditional-sounding in pursuit of a forboding tale about a lover who dreams of her lover’s demise and is trying to get him not to go on the trip he’s about to take. Maybe it’s just me but now that I’m thinking about it, I like this stark, fiddle-free approach to bluegrass, which to my ears accentuates the stalwart melody and gripping narrative. The Sadies are a quartet from Toronto who have been recording since 1998. They are perhaps best known these days as having been Neko Case’s backup band, but it would seem they deserve a bit of their own spotlight as well. “Anna Leigh” is a song off their latest CD, New Seasons, which comes out this week on Yep Roc Records.

Visit the Fingertips Record Shop for direct links to purchase some of the albums that feature the MP3s you read about here.

“That’s That” – Cass McCombs

With its rolling, ringing, nostalgic sheen, “That’s That” glows with an almost breathtaking sort of pure pop grace. This is one beautiful piece of work, rendered palpably touching by the self-control that characterizes the song from start to finish. For even with its crisp, head-bobbing rhythm, “That’s That” offers us a lesson in sonic restraint: guitars that withhold as much as they play, silvery melodies that ache off the swing of the beat, and subtlest but maybe best of all, that warm, rounded, tom-tom sound that keeps a hurried pulse in the background, forever implying a crashing release that never arrives. McCombs, furthermore, has a voice that sounds on the surface sweeter than it actually is–listen carefully and you’ll hear a homely, vaguely adenoidal tinge to his tone that sounds oddly enough like a benefit, offering a bit of an edge to the silky melody line, and underscoring the awkwardness of the young man/older woman affair recounted here. “That’s That” is from McCombs’ forthcoming CD, Dropping the Writ, due out next month on Domino Records. MP3 via Pitchfork.

“Everwise Muskellunge” – Rats With Wings

The Brooklyn-based band Rats With Wings has a predilection for synthesizer sounds most bands prefer to avoid: rubbery flugelhorny ones, chimey squeaky ones, cheesy tromboney ones. Let me quickly say that I might normally prefer to avoid such sounds also. And yet let me quickly also say that through some combination of vibrancy and laptop-infused invention, the whole here becomes far more than the sum of its strange, synthesized parts. With its solidly constructed melody, spacious sense of structure (note how many different chords the tune seems to feel comfortable resting on), and inscrutable lyrics, “Everwise Muskellunge” grows increasingly comfortable and engaging–but no less odd–with each listen. (A muskellunge by the way is a large fish, in the pike family; here it is apparently stuffed and mounted on the wall, from which vantage point it stares at the narrator, who both talks to it and imbues it with an unearthly sort of perspicacity.) At the heart of the band is the duo Brendan Fitzpatrick and David Hurtgen, who have played together in various guises for 15 years; they got the name for this latest incarnation from Woody Allen’s memorable description of pigeons in the movie Stardust Memories. “Everwise Muskellunge” is a song from the band’s self-released Tiny Guns EP, which came out last month, and includes a seriously striking version of Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf.” MP3 courtesy of the band.

“Summer’s Ending” – Steve Goldberg and the Arch Enemies

Well okay summer has actually already ended, but just barely, and in any case the indelible complexion of late summer/early fall is delightfully embodied in the words, the music, and the spirit of this charming song. The bittersweet cello that leads into the first verse–with its singular way of sounding upbeat and sad at the same time–is just a hint of the tuneful orchestral treat the Pittsburgh-based Goldberg has in store for us, with its nicely incorporated string, woodwind, and brass parts. I like how, even so, the guitar and drums–the only “normal” rock instruments on display–are still given their due; the guitar plays an important textural role, and the drums are woven into a larger percussive sound with a nifty sort of homespun finesse. And boy was this homespun: the self-titled album from which this comes was recorded over eight months as Goldberg’s senior project as a music student at Carnegie Mellon University; all the musicians on the album (a total of 22 instruments employed) were CMU students as well. Goldberg even sang into a microphone that was custom-built by an electrical engineering student. And perhaps it took an actual college student to so evocatively capture summer’s end, with its looming, double-edged departure scenes (“I couldn’t wait to leave/But now I want to stay”). Kind of gets you right in the stomach. The CD is available via Goldberg’s web site; the MP3 is no longer available as a direct download, but you can still download it via Bandcamp for any amount of money, including none at all.

“Slow Years” – Men Among Animals

An irrepressible air of the madcap permeates this sly and slightly manic piece of pure pop from the Danish quartet Men Among Animals. One of the many fun things about “Slow Years” is how misleadingly it begins: I’m not sure what sort of song is being signalled by the throbbing bass line and portentous guitar noodles of the intro, but I don’t think it’s the gleeful hookfest that follows when Lasse Nielsen opens his mouth at 0:12. Nielsen sings with a yelpy but agreeable doubletracked tenor (a voice that makes “most bluebirds quiver and almost all librarians faint,” according to the band’s MySpace page); check out the likable way he takes those upward sidesteps in the verse, away from the notes you think he’s going to hit. This is fun in its own way but all the more so for how it sets up the chorus, which has the simple, unstraying melody of a lost classic. I like too how the band augments the proceedings with some flavorful work of their own, including an extended instrumental break that begins at 1:16 with a previously heard guitar riff and stretches way out from there, first with a glissando-crazy haunted-house organ, then (my favorite part) a guitar solo that consists pretty much of one note, bent and strained for 15 seconds or so. Don’t miss it. “Slow Years” comes from the CD Bad Times, All Gone, which was released last week in Europe by the small but tasteful German label Tapete Records, which is run by Dirk Darmstaedter. The MP3 is via the Tapete site.

“Million Dollars Bail” – Peter Case

Before he was frontman for the little-known (but influential) power pop band the Nerves and the better-known Plimsouls, Peter Case eked out a living playing guitar in coffeehouses and busking on the San Francisco streets. After the Plimsouls had their 15 minutes of new wave fame in the early ’80s, Case revisited his roots, re-emerging as a road-toughened troubadour in the later part of the decade, and recording a couple of fine albums in the process. In the years since, Case has all the more convincingly grown into the role; nowadays he sings his finger-picked songs about hard-luck characters with the deep, rough-hewn authenticity of the folk and blues balladeers he admired as a teenager. “Million Dollars Bail” is an old-fashioned protest song—guitar, voice, and indignant lyrics. And yet notice the lack of vitriol, the palpable dignity of the stark yet nuanced performance—he sounds too centered to have to convince us he’s right, and too right to have to point fingers and yell. He’s singing about our two-tiered justice system, but he’s not ranting and demanding changes—he lets the story tell itself, and lets us know, in the end, what’s really at stake: “But there’s a sentence passed on every soul, someday we all must die/When the question’s not who pulled the switch, it’s how you lived and why.” You’ll find “Million Dollars Bail” on the CD Let Us Now Praise Sleepy John, which was released last month on Yep Roc Records. The MP3 is courtesy of Spin.com.

“Salvador” – Jamie T

“Salvador” takes full advantage of its three and a half minutes, filling both the time and space it has with an enticing, cross-genre stew of sounds and rhythms. After a slow intro featuring oddly ancient-sounding electric guitars, the song takes off with a ska-infused beat, at once propulsive and snaky, and atmospheric, often sinister guitar accents. Just as we adjust to this unexpectedly captivating soundscape, the young Briton introduces an unhurried rap verse, which slides into the churning musical terrain quite nicely. As do the threatening “hoo! hah!” background vocals a bit later, somehow. His working-class singing accent has caused a bit of a row in England, as it turns out 21-year-old Jamie T (née Treays) is from well-to-do Wimbledon, and attended a posh school, but all I’m thinking we should care about is does the song work? I say it does. (And would point out that Joe Strummer, the son of a diplomat, was hardly a hooligan either.) “Salvador” is from Jamie T’s debut CD Panic Prevention, which was released in the U.S. at the end of August on Caroline Records. (The record came out in the U.K. back in January and is one of the 12 nominees for this year’s Mercury Prize.) The MP3 is via Better Propaganda.

“Diamond Heart” – Marissa Nadler

Hang with this one for just a little while. Nadler sings with a distinctive sort of warble, and the song starts with her in full warble. (Nadler is often grouped with the so-called “New Weird America” and/or psych-folk movements, with the likes of Devendra Banhart and Johanna Newsom, in which unusual vocal stylings are de rigueur.) She also seems to be singing from the end of an echoey hallway; her guitar, meanwhile, vibrates with an unearthly, harp-like throb. Lyrical substance is difficult to decipher but odd prominent phrases emerge at the outset—“jezebel crown,” “reliquary eyes.” And yet somehow, quickly, the song gathers a deep, resonant beauty, like something unearthed from an ancient time with only a few scratches; even the echoey hallway ultimately adds a mysterious aural texture to what is a heart-breakingly gorgeous song. And this is folk-song gorgeous not pop ballad gorgeous (not that there’s anything wrong with that), meaning we get the unfolding gravity of timeless melody rather than a burst of hooks. By the time she reaches for the climactic words of the chorus—“Oh my lonely diamond heart”—with a sigh at-once world-weary and angelic, all thoughts of weird warbling have vanished in the presence of sheer musical wonder. “Diamond Heart” is the opening track on Nadler’s CD Songs III: Bird on the Water, which was released in the U.S. last month on Kemado Records(it had been released in the U.K. earlier in the year, on Peacefrog Records). The MP3 is courtesy of Insound.

“Radio Nowhere” – Bruce Springsteen

Hang with this one a bit also. It’s not complicated, it’s got a grinding, muddy sort of sonic sensibility, and yeah okay he’s done any number of better songs (he’s Bruce Springsteen, for crying out loud). But this song is a creeper, sticking in the head and heart after a few listens. What I like right away is that, independent of the thick rocking ambiance, this doesn’t really sound much like a Bruce Springsteen song—the melody and chord progression may be plain but they do not specifically call to mind any of the Boss’s big anthemic blasters of the past; this one even has a touch of power pop about it that strikes my ears as unexpected. I like too that it’s just three minutes seventeen seconds, as Bruce has not been known for economy of statement in recent years (or maybe ever). I love the subject matter, as the song laments the abject soullessness of satellite radio: “I was trying to find my way home/But all I heard was a drone/Bouncing off a satellite/Crushing the last lone American night.” And yes I like the music too—simple and direct it may be, but vivid and driven as well, thanks in part to his estimable compadres in the E Street Band. All in all “Radio Nowhere” feels like a reassuring rallying cry from one of our mightiest living rock legends, a guy who I might add has attempted to be a decent human being (no mean feat!) despite nearly being crushed by the “star-maker machinery” back in the ’70s and ’80s. The song comes from Springsteen’s forthcoming CD, Magic, slated for release on Columbia Records in early October (although the vinyl is coming out, actually, at the end of this month). MP3 via Spinner.

“When I Say Go” – the 1900s

Guided by a jaunty piano and sung with a Carole King-like forthrightness by Jeanine O’Toole, “When I Say Go” is a potent piece of midwestern indie pop that rewards careful listening with its inventive sense of arrangement. To begin with, this Chicago septet features three vocalists and here utilizes two of them: O’Toole is the Kingly one, singing the verses, while Caroline Donovan handles the choruses; they sound almost the same but kind of not, also. Listen as well for the careful use of strings, which intermittently lend the song a very parlor-like sensibility, other times adding the air of, almost, a hoedown. Sometimes a small touch means a lot, like the way the piano, after pounding out basic major and minor chords until then, releases, abruptly, into a somewhat thornier arpeggio (at around 1:18; sounds like maybe a major 7 chord). This may not be something you consciously note but it alters the mood on the spot, all the more so because of its subtlety. On the other hand, not subtly at all, the song breaks in the middle (starting at 1:38) for a bracing guitar solo, a scant 10 seconds of expert, squonky deconstruction that is not to be missed. “When I Say Go” is a song from the band’s debut full-length CD, Cold & Kind, slated for release early next month on Parasol Records. The MP3 is courtesy of the band’s site.

The Fingertips Home Office will be closed between August 19 and Sept. 3. To avoid leaving everyone empty-handed for two weeks, I’m offering you one reviewed MP3, plus a list of five others I’ve been listening to lately. Any one of these—or none of them—may yet end up as a TWF pick; see what you think if you have the time to check them out.

“Boy With a Coin” – Iron & Wine

As Sam Beam continues to flesh out his homespun sound, he sounds better and better, to me. The strong, sure acoustic-guitar rhythm propels “Boy With a Coin,” but the electric and percussive accents—including hypnotic handclaps—add so much texture and substance that this right away feels like far more than standard singer/songwriter fare. I particularly like the blurty punctuations the electric guitar begins to make at around 1:18, and how they subsequently lead to a marvelous instrumental break beginning around 1:32. The tightly harmonized female backing vocals are another background element that contributes centrally to the alluring vibe. I’m not sure what he’s singing about but the overall effect is mysterious to the point of being outright spiritual, a sense accentuated by the droning electric guitar that haunts the background during the second half of the song. “Boy With a Coin” will be found on The Shepherd’s Dog, Iron and Wine’s third full-length CD, which is due out in September on Sub Pop Records. The MP3 is via Better Propaganda.

Vacation Special: five MP3s, minus reviews:
“Nothing Burns Like Bridges” – Penny Century
“Setting Fire to Sleepy Towns” – the Sleeping Years
“For Science Fiction” – Maritime
“From a Tower” – Love Like Fire
“100 Days, 100 Nights” – Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings

As noted, you may yet read about one or more of these in an upcoming TWF update. In any case, all are worth hearing. “This Week’s Finds” will resume in its regular guise on Tuesday, September 4.

“Shade” – Portugal. The Man

While I don’t think much of the band name–inexplicable punctuation is a pet peeve–I’m finding this slinky, vigorous, genre-resistant song has etched itself slowly but steadily into whatever part of my mind that’s responsible for making songs stick in it. There’s something prog-rock-y about it–the fairy-tale-like guitar riff that opens the piece, for instance–as well as something more Led Zeppelin-y in lead singer John Gourley’s Plant-like yowl and Page-like guitar heaviness. Those synthesized strings floating in from above, and the band’s gift for unexpected, rhythmic melody? That’s a bit of Radiohead, perhaps. At the same time, the drum sounds are so up front and organic that it puts me in the mind of some classic rock track or another even as the overall vibe is good old ’00s indie rock. All in all an attractive and successful stew of sounds and vibe from this young trio from the Northwest. Gourley and bassist Zach Carothers grew up together in Alaska, of all places; they are based now in Portland, Oregon, which is drummer Jason Sechrist’s hometown. “Shade” is from the band’s CD Church Mouth, which was released last month on Fearless Records. The MP3 is via Spinner, the AOL indie music blog.

“One Man” – Eulogies

Listen to how “One Man” plays with us pace-wise. The melody proceeds in an unhurried way, very much in the range of what is (too often) called a “midtempo rocker” (Google that phrase and it comes up 10,000 times; two of ’em right here, I must add, in the spirit of full disclosure). But the rhythm section chugs along in double time, creating a briskness and vibrancy the famous midtempo rocker often lacks. Eulogies is a trio featuring the singer/songwriter Peter Walker (previously featured here in April 2006); the band in fact came spontaneously into existence as Walker realized on his last tour how well he and the two musicians playing with him were jelling. I was impressed last year with Walker’s sure touch as both a singer and songwriter, and am again this time around. I like the subtle but evocative hooks he has going in the chorus–first, to me, just the marvelous way his falsetto bends a bit before settling on the word “I” (and what a great, yearning note that is, too); second, how the melody deftly centers itself between the beats, creating this wonderful, bittersweet sense of movement. A bonus: the lyrics display the same subtle power. Walker sings: “I learned something/In the nick of time/I’m only one man”–and while the song doesn’t reveal enough detail to know exactly what he learned and why it was just in time, the wistful atmosphere suggests a complex sort of heartache, and a good news/bad news type of education. “One Man” is from Eulogies’ self-titled debut CD, due out in September on Dangerbird Records. The MP3 is via the Dangerbird site. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the lead.

“Time is a Lion” – Joe Henry

Joe Henry has one of those really familiar-sounding voices for a guy who doesn’t get a whole lot of exposure in the scheme of things. Part of the lack of widespread exposure has to do with the fact that he’s spent a fair amount of time singing songs with that voice that have been purposefully arcane, oddly cluttered, and more than a little, shall we say, difficult. He has been quoted as calling his 2003 release Tiny Voices “intentionally chaotic,” saying that it was “like a Bunuel film shown on the side of a building during a rain storm.” This time around, lo and behold, he has decided to aim for clarity and if this song is any indication, he’s at least part of the way there. “Time is a Lion” has the sort of barroom swing the likes of which labelmate Tom Waits might concoct, but where Waits tends to deconstruct and croak, and Henry previously might have piled on sounds and squeezed away the melody, he this time opts for a surface-level smoothness, even as the percussion beats out a distinctive pulse and the piano alternates between music hall chords and jazzy washes. Lyrically Henry is full of resonant pronouncements and abstract narrative of the sort Bob Dylan has specialized in since the late ’90s. Good stuff. “Time is a Lion” is from Henry’s forthcoming Civilians CD, to be released next month on Anti Records. MP3 via the Anti web site.

“Remission” – Ryan Ferguson

Comfortably incisive from beginning to end, “Remission” is one of those blessed songs with a perfectly balanced feeling between the verse and the chorus. You know how a song can have a great chorus, but the verse is like treading water to get there; or conversely, some songs have a really interesting verse but then the chorus is flavorless. Here the verse is interesting and commanding, and yet leads to—rather than overpowers–the chorus, the brilliance of which is just subtle enough, in turn, not to overshadow the verse. The hidden trick behind all of this here, I think, is the strong working relationship between the words and the music. After that emphatic opening chord sequence—nicely textured with an added xylophone—listen carefully to the lyrics and note not merely the dramatic story line (this does not appear to be another tale of relationship woes, although it might work that way metaphorically) but how uncannily well the words scan with the music–that is, how the rhythm of the music allows the words to be sung exactly how they’re spoken, without putting any stress on odd syllables. All too many pop songwriters write without much sensitivity to how the words will scan; whether accidentally or purposefully, Ferguson—previously in the locally popular San Diego quartet No Knife—emerges in this song as a master. “Remission” is from his first full-length solo CD, Only Trying to Help, set for release next month on Better Looking Records. The MP3 is via the Better Looking site. Thanks to the guys at 3hive for the lead.

“Act of War” – Owen Duff

Electric instruments are not required for a musician to create a sense of drive and urgency, as proven ably by this unsigned Briton, who prefers in fact whenever possible to play an actual piano rather than a keyboard. Although basically an unadorned piano and guitar piece (enhanced with thoughtful sound-touches along the way, however), “Act of War” shimmers with both rhythmic and melodic exuberance, underscored by a refreshing dollop of finesse. It’s common for solo performers on the acoustic guitar to go explosive rhythmically, pounding more than strumming in an effort to prove their—I don’t know: sincerity, musical prowess, emotional depth, who knows. Duff gives us rhythmic depth without pounding, and greatly enhances his offering here with a fetching, pliable melody line, using his delicate, Sufjan-like tenor with unexpected dexterity and gusto. “Act of War” is the opening track from Duff’s seven-song debut EP, called A Tunnel, Closing In, which he released last year. The MP3 is available via his web site.

“Run-Away” – Super Furry Animals

The nutty Welshmen are back, singing in English this time, and kinda sorta just in time to provide hungry American pop fans with what is surely one of the summer of ’07’s spiffiest–albeit nuttiest–summer songs. The fuzzy background sound and Beach Boys-esque melody rockets us straight back to 1965 or so, with a side trip through the Twilight Zone, and our job is to hang on and enjoy the ride. Two keys to this song, to my ears: the two distinct drum patterns (modified Phil Spector beat in the verse; smoother, cymbally pulse in the chorus); and that swoony chorus melody with its wild dips and rises (I love the two notes you hear from about 0:41 to 0:43 in particular–a startling but perfect, Brill Building-y interval). I can’t make out the lyrics too well but the moral of the story is crystal clear: “Those who cry and run away/Live to cry another day.” The Super Furries have been making their loopy, psychedelic-ish pop since 1993. “Run-Away” is a song from Hey Venus!, their eighth CD, which is due out digitally and on vinyl near the end of August on Rough Trade Records. (The album will not be released in the U.S. on CD until 2008, apparently to coincide with the band’s U.S. tour.) Thanks to Gorilla vs. Bear for the head’s up. The MP3 is via Beggars Group, which just last week acquired Rough Trade.

“Elouise” – Maps

Buzzy, expansive, and richly melodic, “Elouise” is the work of shoegaze-inspired one-man band James Chapman, doing business from his Northampton (UK) home as Maps. But get this: unlike most if not all 21st-century bedroom rockers, Chapman developed his music entirely on a 16-track recorder in his apartment. Meaning he doesn’t use computers. That knowledge will change how you hear this one, as the drones and beats and keyboards which drive the evocative, anthemic “Elouise” were all laid down the old-fashioned way, not manipulated by a laptop. (Note that the strings were added later; the album ended up being produced in Iceland by Valgeir Sigurdsson, who has worked extensively with Sigur Rós and Björk.) I’m loving the chorus in particular, with its simple but memorable descending melody line, and then–I’m a sucker for this move–the addition of those two extra beats in the measure beginning at 1:18 (the lyric when he first mentions “Elouise”). Listen too to how the guitars drop out in the chorus, adding to the lushness of the sound there. Chapman churns out humming, atmospheric music that forces everyone who writes about him to mention My Bloody Valentine, but to my ears this song has a lighter and more accessible feel than, by and large, the music that seminal band produced in its day. “Elouise” is from the CD We Can Create, which was released in the U.S. in June on Mute Records. (In the U.K., the CD came out in May and was last week one of 12 albums placed on the short list for this year’s Mercury Prize.) The MP3 is available via Insound.

“Sinking Ships” – the Archibalds

Friendly, strumming acoustic guitars lead us into a good-natured, back-country rave-up with an unmistakable zydeco flavor, minus the accordion. And lookee here, as unlike as this one is from the Maps song above, the zydeco feel is responsible for one distinct similarity: the measure with the two extra beats, which you can hear here as soon as singer Joey Thompson opens his mouth (at 0:23, as he sings “Hey there, Mister Boll Weevil”). And once Thompson opens his mouth, extra beats or no, I’m hooked–as a singer, he’s got one of those round, personality-laced voices that brings Ray Davies to mind, and as a songwriter he’s got a casual, John Fogerty-like knack for neighborly, classic-sounding melodies. A quartet from Austin, the Archibalds play with the real-time gusto of a band that records live (whether they do or not); “Sinking Ships” is a song from the band’s debut CD, O Camellia, which was released in March, jointly, by Breakfast Mascot Records and Austin’s Superpop Records. The MP3 is courtesy of Breakfast Mascot.

“Horse and I” – Bat For Lashes

And it has inadvertently turned into Mercury Prize week, as Bat For Lashes, like Maps above, is one of the 12 finalists for the U.K.’s Mercury Prize for album of the year, as announced last Tuesday. As with Maps, Bat For Lashes also sounds like the name of a band but is one person–in this case, 27-year-old Natasha Khan. Building off an unadorned, almost awkwardly plain keyboard riff, “Horse and I” unfolds in an unhurried manner. Khan enters, singing, after half a minute; a ghostly synthesizer joins in shortly thereafter; and then, intriguingly, about halfway through, a military drumbeat takes on the rhythm of the keyboard riff, which now makes further sense in retrospect. Khan by the way has a marvelous voice–breathy and vulnerable in the lower register, achy-urgent in the upper register. The song has a fairy-tale vibe (horses, woods, destiny, etc.) that might be a bit precious were it not for the formidability of the music and arrangement. I’m especially taken by the juxtaposition of the other-worldly synthesizer and the martial beat–it’s a combination I can’t recall hearing simultaneously before (the short duet between the two sounds at 1:24 is an oddball highlight here). “Horse and I” is the lead track from the debut Bat For Lashes CD Fur and Gold, which was released last September in the U.K. on Echo Records; its U.S. release is scheduled for next week, on Caroline Records.

“Deep Frieze” – Chris Letcher

Smartly put together and sharply produced, “Deep Frieze” offers a gratifying union of acoustic, electric, and electronic sounds, linked beneath rich, almost choral-like vocalizing. A crisply strummed acoustic guitar lies at the heart of this midtempo rocker, but other rewarding guitar sounds come to fore as well, along with a battery of good-natured knob-twiddly noises. I like how this song feels so ornate without actually wasting a whole lot of aural space: it sounds very layered and yet you can easily, at any point, pick out and label everything you’re hearing—which isn’t often the case when bands aim in this sort of baroque direction. Chris Letcher is a South African musician now based in London, and studying composition at the Royal College of Music, no less. In South Africa, he was part of a successful ’90s band called Urban Creep. “Deep Frieze” is a track from Letcher’s CD Frieze, which was released in March on the Sheer/2 Feet label. (In South Africa, it was out in November 2006, while in Europe, release is slated for September; globalization in music is sometimes very complicated.)

“Dancing Behind My Eyelids” – Múm

So this one takes a little while to get going: one minute of slow and quiet noodling, 20 seconds of a bit more activity, then a good half minute of engaging rhythm and instrumental melody, leading surely into…well, oops, there’s another 20 seconds of quiet noodling. The singing starts at 2:30, which is bizarrely late, especially in song that’s just about four minutes long. All in all a recipe for the kind of thing I don’t have patience for, and yet in this case, I find myself rather charmed. Why? I’ll tell you: I’m not sure. Maybe it’s the happy tone of the noodly notes—those are very friendly-sounding synthesizers offering that reverie of a duet: the staccato pulse of a bass-like sound below and a chimey companion playing a smeerier sort of pulse up above. A drum at 1:00 breaks the trance and sets up a full-out breakthrough at 1:21, a wonderfully engaging bit of driving but melodic electronics, enlivened by starbursts of synthesizer glissandos. At this point it sounds like everyone’s having so much fun—Múm is seven members strong—that the singers perhaps have forgotten their cues. There is a reprise of the noodly part with a friendly animal sort of noise added to the mix. Then the singing, and it’s a strong ascending melody line we get from two singers who are not in fact the baby-voiced Kristín Valtýsdóttir, who has left the band. The melody line repeats four times, with—still!—instrumental breaks and we’re through. Is this even a song? Not sure. But it will be on the Icelandic band’s mysterious new CD, Go Go Smear the Poison Ivy, scheduled for release in September on Fat Cat Records. MP3 via Pitchfork.

“She’s In Love” – Fourth of July

From semi-avant-garde not-quite-song-writing we go to pure easygoing indie pop. What makes this a killer track, however, is that underneath the goofy-peppy sound is a genuinely poignant tale of love gone awry. So yes we’re in the land of “happy sound, sad lyrics” that is one of pop music’s special gifts to the world. The endearing, vaguely sloppy vibe here belies the precision of the song, from the well-placed, more interesting than you might realize “ba ba ba” background vocals to the short-story-like quality of the lyrics. Singer/songwriter Brendan Hangauer utilizes the slick trick of opening and closing the song with the same lines: “She’s in love with a photograph/And the idea things could last/Goddamn, I never thought of that”; and when you hear it the second time your heart kind of breaks. Fourth of July is a six-piece band from Lawrence, Kansas that came to life in 2001 as Hangauer’s solo project. “She’s In Love” is from the CD Fourth of July On the Plains, released in June on Range Life Records. The MP3 can be found on Lawrence.com.