Category: MP3s

“Saturday Night” – Pale Young Gentlemen

The Madison-based ensemble that call themselves Pale Young Gentlemen (the prominently featured cellist is a woman, however) play a singular sort of theatrical indie pop, featuring a jaunty sense of melody, a soft spot for old-timey rhythms, and something of Randy Newman’s way with string-enhanced, piano-based vamping. The aforementioned cello lends an indefinable suggestion of yesteryear to the proceedings, while lead singer and pianist Mike Reisenauer—sounding like a cross between Adam Duritz and Andrew Bird, with a dusting of Chris Martin—sings with a amicable sort of semi-boozey flair; when he gets to the rollicking chorus I can all but see him doing a vaudevillian sort of backward-moving kick step and spread-hand shimmy. And I like how economically the Pale Young Gents manage the theatrics; rather than drowning us with strings or layered, Freddie Mercury-style vocals, the song gives us the feel of something orchestrated with, in fact, a minimal number of instruments, skillfully but informally played—the music has the air of something that everyone maybe just finished rehearsing half a moment before they sat down to record. Keep an ear out too for the backing vocals, sung with fine slapdash charm. “Saturday Night” is a song from the band’s self-released, self-titled debut CD, which came out way back in March, but only recently came to the attention of the hard-working mail sorters in the Fingertips home office.



“Truck” – the Octopus Project

Indefatigable and gleeful instrumental pop from one of the indie world’s most beloved and quirky outfits. (Note that it is difficult if not impossible to achieve beloved status in the indie world without quirkiness.) As noted the previous times the Octopus Project has graced the pages of this web site (a TWF pick in ’05), this Austin-based quartet has an almost magical way of converting its beepy, boopy sounds into something rich and satisfying, even to the ears of this non-instrumental-oriented listener. Here, a sprightly synthesizer comprises the not-as-simple-as-it-seems core of this fleet-footed 7/4 rave-up. As usual, the band’s uncommon ability to blend the electronic, the electric, and the percussive into an organic-sounding whole is front and center (although its endearing use of the theremin is not, unfortunately, on obvious display in this song). While the 7/4 time signature is not unheard of in pop music, the band’s ability to rock out, briskly, within this framework is ear-catching. Likewise ear-catching are the short bridge-like sections during which the 7/4 is abandoned for an even more off-kilter beat (for instance, from 0:20 to 0:31; could be 5/4, maybe, partly) before rejoining the seven-beat groove. Don’t miss the outer space version of the bridge, from 1:32 to 1:43, when the synthesizer pairs with one ringing guitar to create, somehow, a shimmering sound that almost “out-aliens” the absent theremin, before giving way to hard-bashing 7/4 craziness the rest of the way. “Truck” is a song from the CD Hello, Avalanche, the band’s third full-length disc, which was released last month on Peek-A-Boo Records.



“Falling Behind” – Dear Euphoria

Elina Johansson has a slight Sandy Denny-ish tremor in her tender, affecting voice, lending a luminous air to this song’s pervading sadness—a sadness induced by the crestfallen pace, spare setting, and broken-hearted lyrics but not, interestingly, by the actual music, which is mostly comprised of major rather than minor chords. Listen carefully and you may hear how closely the verses hang on top of one of the most familiar bass lines in the 20th-century pop songbook, the one from novice-pianist-friendly “Heart and Soul”; the chorus, meanwhile, floats us into a forlorn, asymmetrical space in which Johansson’s doubletracked voice sings a melodic line that repeats once too often while the drummer retreats, taking the assurance of a beat with him (or her). The plaintive ambiance ultimately forces an alternative interpretation of Dear Euphoria—bliss that is not sweet but, rather, costly. Born in Sweden, Johansson did not begin performing until she moved to Los Angeles for a while earlier in the decade; she “took it as a sign to return home when daily turning on the ac to max,” according to some sketchy but evocative biographical information on her web site. Dear Euphoria is not a band but the name Johansson performs under, with, sometimes, a small circle of regular side players. “Falling Behind” is a song from the self-titled debut CD, which came out last month on London-based Stereo Test Kit Records. This CD is a re-worked version of an album that was self-released, with a different title, in 2005; the new CD has subtracted two of the original songs and added four new ones (including “Falling Behind”). MP3 is via the Stereo Test Kit site.

“You Can’t Say No Forever” – Lacrosse

Peppy, winsome, and unpretentious, “You Can’t Say No Forever” launches off a nimble acoustic intro, picks up a boy-girl pair of lead singers singing maybe not exactly in tune all the time, a drum kit, an electric guitar or two, an endearing synthesizer (don’t miss it), and a nice fat horn line before it’s all through in a scant three minutes six seconds. The almost but not quite zany energy is the infectious result of a delightful sing-song-y melody and six musicians playing with great bustling spirit–as they get going, I can all but picture the jouncing body parts working things into a dust cloud, like some cartoon animal band, setting up the climactic moment (at 2:25) when the instruments stop on a dime and the vocalists join together for a heartfelt “ba-da-da-da-da-da,” which repeats as the piece draws to its lively close. We have by the way yet another band from Sweden here–Lacrosse is from Stockholm, and are signed to Tapete Records, the German label with an enviable habit of releasing wonderful music. “You Can’t Say No Forever” is from the CD This New Year Will Be For You and Me, which was released in Europe this month. The MP3 is via the Tapete site.

“Evergreen” – Celebration

With its carnival organ, idiosyncratic drum beat, cagey structure, and elusive vocals—not only is the singer hard to understand, but you might not initially realize that a woman and not a tenor is singing—this is truly an unusual song. I’ve been sitting with it for quite a while already; it was one of those that fascinated me at an unconscious level, leaving my conscious mind a bit perplexed as to why I kept listening and listening. I’m still not sure I know, exactly, but it definitely has something to do with the unique texture created by the swirling instrumentation, scuttly drumming, Katrina Ford’s reverberant voice, and maybe most of all the seductively repetitive melody–listen to how Ford stays centered on one note a whole lot of the time; the furtive dives she takes to lower pitches somehow serve to further emphasize the unmoving primary note. And I may be crazy but deep within the kaleidoscopic organ sound I’m sensing the beating heart of an old-time soul record, as I could swear I’m hearing a Booker T. and the M.G.s/Stax Records reference in the mix somewhere. “Celebration” is the lead track off this Baltimore-based trio’s second CD, The Modern Tribe, which was released last month on 4AD Records. MP3 courtesy of Beggars Group, 4AD’s parent label.

“Faster Than Cars Drive” – Kate Tucker & the Sons of Sweden

The combination of tough and lonely is an appealing one, and Tucker’s got it going here, with a tough and lonely shuffle that sounds a bit like Patty Griffin trying to do a Mazzy Star imitation, with Neko Case for a teacher. Tucker’s got an achy edge to her breathy voice, while her able band creates a world of subtle feeling behind her via a series of fluid changes in their reverb-laced playing. Keep your ear on the drummer in particular, who drives the one obvious, and central, change: the apparent time shift of the chorus, which isn’t a time shift at all, simply an ear-arresting rhythmic trick. This outfit, by the way, is actually not from Sweden, but from the Seattle neighborhood of Ballard–which was the traditional center of the city’s Scandanavian community (thus, it would seem, the band name). The Sons of Sweden, by the way, were a band called the Dark Ages before joining forces with Tucker, who has herself released one solo CD before this one. “Faster Than Cars Drive” is from the self-titled debut CD as an ensemble–a disc produced by Ryan Hadlock, who has worked with Blonde Redhead and Metric, among other bands. The CD was self-released at the end of October, on the band’s Red Valise Records imprint.

Rebekah Higgs – “Parables”

This one starts almost before the musicians have picked up their instruments. We hear tuning, we hear the singer warming up, and then we hear the song kick in, but listen carefully–in addition to the instantly engaging and well-textured groove, you’ll hear a layer or two of ghostly electronics echoing in the aural distance. Unlike many who have explored a mix of acoustic and electronic sounds (often a simple mashing of acoustic guitar and laptop effects), Higgs uses electronics with an orchestral flair, weaving beautiful howls and altered vocal effects into a down-home mix of guitar, drums, banjo, and strings. At the song’s center are a resilient, six-measure melody (the same for both verse and chorus) and Higgs’ breathy-scratchy, bumpy-yet-frisky voice. Together they can do no wrong; interspersed with noodly sections featuring the words “I will” amidst an eddying swirl of loops, indistinct sounds, stray lyrics, and banjo, the main melody returns each time like a trusty friend. The end result is hypnotic–the song is five minutes long but might as well be two or ten, time kind of becoming elastic in the hands of this 24-year-old singer/songwriter/guitarist from Halifax with a bright bright future. “Parables” is the lead track off her self-titled debut CD, given a remastered, Canada-wide release last month by Toronto-based Outside Music. (Higgs had self-released the CD in a limited release last year; the Outside version also contains two extra songs.) MP3 via Outside Music; thanks to Chrome Waves for the lead.

“Alarm Clock” – the Rumble Strips

A sprightly slice of good-humored British neo new wave pop, plus horns. The sax and trumpet deliver their old-fashioned horn chart with a slaphappy abandon that enhances the general drollery, but then here’s the twist: “Alarm Clock” is not actually a carefree song, as it concerns the unhumorous reality of having to work at a dreary job day after day. What the music reflects, however, is the spirit with which our narrator struggles with this ubiquitous misfortune–not to mention “solves” the problem of the bothersome alarm clock (“So I hit him with a hammer/And now he’s quite subdued”). Singer Charlie Waller has a bit of Andy Partridge’s spirited wail and he and his three bandmates most definitely like to bang, blow, and hit their instruments with incautious glee; at this point it’s hard to imagine that anything they sing about, however serious, will sound somber. The Rumble Strips hail from Tavistock, a small Devonshire town near the Cornwall border in southwest England; “Alarm Clock” is from their six-song Alarm Clock EP, the band’s first U.S. release, which will be out next month on Kanine Records. A shorter version of this EP came out earlier in the year in the U.K.; “Alarm Clock” can also be found on the Rumble Strips’ debut full-length, Girls and Weather, which was released in the U.K. in September on Island Records. MP3 courtesy of Spin.

“Five O’Clock News” – Ryan Scott

This languorous, slightly jazzy ballad, in three-quarter time, is a definite grower. Scott has a distinctive, somewhat smoky, large-mouthed voice, with nice range and a pliable tone–an ideal tool, as it turns out, for this deceptively complex little song. While there appear, more or less, to be verses and a chorus and maybe a bridge, lyrically, the music slides sneakily from section to section, augmented by understated changes as sections repeat, the sneaky feeling complemented by the melody’s tendency to swing across the three-beat measures, most syllables in the lyrics stretching out for two or more beats. And then, lo and behold, the central (albeit subtle) hook, to my ears, is the one-sentence chorus, in which Scott placidly lobs a ten-syllable run in which each syllable is precisely one beat long–from the word “sweater” to the words “for me” (from 0:52 to 0:58 the first time we hear it), and does it with an appealing ascending/descending melody, finishing on the sidestep of an unresolved chord. The second time we hear this exact sentence we get fourteen straight one-beat syllables, beginning with the word “clock” (2:36), with the song ending when the sentence ends, unresolved chord still hanging in the air. Trained as a jazz guitarist, Scott moved to NYC from the Bay Area in 2001, only 18 at the time, to make his way as a singer/songwriter. “Five O’Clock News” is from the CD Smoke & Licorice, released in September by Brooklyn-based CrystalTop Music. This is officially Scott’s second CD, but features eight songs that were also on his debut CD, Five O’Clock News, which had a limited release in the middle of last year.

“The Main Thing is to Keep the Main Thing the Main Thing” – I Am Bones

So this is a band with a sense of humor, which can be a mixed blessing in rock’n’roll, where a conscious effort to appear “funny” often crosses the line into “hm, maybe not funny.” The best way to stay on the good side of the line is, first of all, for the humor to seem self-effacing rather than obnoxious and, second (and more important), for the music itself to be delightful. The Danish quartet I Am Bones—whose first, self-released CD had the Firesign Theater-esque title of If You Really Love Me, Send Me More Medical Supplies—appears to satisfy on both counts with this splendid slice of slightly skewed, smile-inducing power pop. Listen, instantly, to the harmonies employed right out of the gate, which utilize elastic intervals that I can’t discern, delivered over a twitchy guitar rhythm. The off-kilter flavor of the verse, pleasing on its own, further serves to make the straight-ahead I-IV-V brilliance of the chorus all the more appetizing. Here, front man Johannes Gammelby’s voice takes on an unexpected depth, as the bottom-heavy drive of the music combines with the upward-leaning melody to lend him something of Jeff Lynne’s congenial vocal power. One final key to success is succinctness: the song lasts barely longer than the title; we hear the chorus but twice, as the entire last minute of a not-very-long-anyway song is a guitar-driven instrumental coda. “The Main Thing…” is from the new I Am Bones CD, The Greater Good, the band’s second for the English-speaking Danish label Morningside Records, released last month in Europe. The MP3 is via Morningside.

“Subtle Changes” – Sambassadeur

We’re staying in Scandanavia for no particular reason except that this next wonderful song sounds great after our first wonderful song. Sambassadeur is a quartet from Gothenburg, Sweden whose previously stripped-down vibe (in the past, their recordings were done at home) has been fetchingly boosted by echoey strings, atmospheric percussion, a grand, chugging rhythm and, later on, a honking sax solo. Anna Persson, once a casual, somewhat deadpan vocalist—singing in short, talky phrases, and sounding as if she could not sing and smile at the same time—here emerges with a richer tone, partly because of the production but partly also because she’s not afraid to hold her notes, to fully sing. She may not yet be smiling but she’s loosened up her facial muscles and in so doing shifted away from irony and towards passion, which engenders I think much more than a subtle change in the band’s sound. What they retain, however, is a nimble way with melody; listen in particular to the chorus and how beautifully the melody extends beyond the confines of a typical four-measure pop chorus–the melodic line here is actually nine measures long, which is unusual, seemingly one measure too long, and it leaves us vaguely unresolved musically, too, until the chorus repeats a second time and then hooks back into the opening chord of the verse section (compare the unfinished feeling from 1:43 through 1:46 to the resolution at 1:47). “Subtle Changes” is from Migration, Sambassadeur’s first studio album, released last month, in Europe, on Labrador Records. MP3 via Labrador.

“Tree” – Hopewell

It’s really hard, I think, to start a pop song this slowly; and to do so with a high-pitched, slightly nasally tenor such as Jason Russo’s front and center is even harder. But his voice is not, at first, what anchors the ear here. The piano, instead, commands attention, with its simple, firm, plaintive chords. Four times the chords shift during this slow opening, and notice how, with each chord shift, Russo nevertheless comes back to settle on the same melodic note; Tyson Lewis’s uncluttered, shifting chords create such a strong, if bittersweet, feeling that they trick the ear into thinking the melody is moving more than it is. When the band kicks in at 0:34, the small, careful instrumental flourishes put me in the mind of an old Band song, which the central, doleful melody reinforces, not to mention Russo’s intermittent resemblance to Rick Danko. While the opening progression remains at the center of this almost inexplicably captivating song, varied textures arise along the way, building towards a louder, fuller-bodied conclusion, complete with deep rumblings underneath and an almost orchestrated feel to the band’s playing. Hopewell is not from Scandanavia; Poughkeepsie, New York is the off-the-beaten path home for this talented but largely unrecognized quintet. “Tree” is from Beautiful Targets, the band’s fifth CD, released in July on Tee Pee Records.

“Be Unhappy” – Maritime

I like how the basic, wet-blanket lyrical twist here–“Even if you find the love of your life/You could be unhappy for weeks at a time”–is mirrored in the music: at the heart of this peppy, summer-sunny tune are recurring suspended chords that block our sense of simple fulfillment (they’re laid out right in the intro, at :03 and :06), like persistent clouds on a beach day. And listen to the guitar that plays these chords–a smooth, old-fashioned-sounding thing that wouldn’t seem out of place offering insouciant licks in a jazz bar, and yet somehow, too, commingles successfully with the much itchier, vaguely punky second guitar. My ear even finds singer-guitarist Davey von Bohlen himself embodying the same aesthetic conflict, his high, graceful voice subtly contradicted by a raspiness just below the surface. That the music conveys us eventually to a bunch of “doo-doo-doo-doo”s is the culminating musical oxymoron in a song that so prettily seems to be assuring us that life isn’t always pretty. You’ll find this one on Maritime’s new CD, Heresy and the Hotel Choir, the third album from this accomplished Milwaukee quartet, which was released this month on Flameshovel Records.

“Ex-Guru” – the Fiery Furnaces

The Fiery Furnaces are fully a product of the 21st century: a brother-sister duo from suburban Chicago trafficking in oblique, experimental songwriting featuring intermittent snatches of backward-looking pop-rock, with lots of stylistic leaps, sonic mayhem, and lyrical perplexities along the way. Founded officially in Brooklyn in 2000, the Furnaces tend to elicit extreme reactions–some claim Matthew and Eleanor Friedberger as Captain Beefheart-style geniuses, others urge people to throw money out windows rather than pay for what the Fiery Furnaces have recorded. Me, I’m thinking that it’s a vast knowledge of and appreciation for the music of the past that fuels their experimentation, which means, if they put their minds to it, they’re fully capable of sounding quote-unquote normal too (as, for instance, they did on “Benton Harbor Blues,” a previous TWF pick. “Ex-Guru” gives us, this time, a brisk, ironic/nostalgic piece of rock such as Beck might concoct, delivered with a blasé sort of gusto by Eleanor, who must here know that the recurring lyric “She means nothing to me now” accentuates the aural illusion that a man is singing. (The lyrics, rather plainly about, indeed, an ex-guru, are funny and also I think a little sad.) Be sure to hang around past the Stevie Wonder keyboards to see where else this one wants to go: we get, first, a heavy burst of guitar and synthesizer (1:25) that sounds like the B-52s doing Led Zeppelin, which leads somehow into a baroque-y flute, horn, and harpsichord-like keyboard trio that helps finish things off. “Ex-Guru” is from Widow City, the band’s fifth full-length, released earlier this month on Thrill Jockey Records. MP3 courtesy of Paper Thin Walls BetterPropaganda.

“Imaginary Girl” – the Silver Seas

Easy-going, super-likeable neo-mellow rock. Singer/songwriter Daniel Tashian sounds like a cross between James Taylor and Jackson Browne, with maybe a dash of young Billy Joel thrown in, and the music he crafts with producer/keyboardist Jason Lehning is a lovingly updated version of the kind of thing that was in the air back when JT and JB and BJ were plying their 1974-ish wares–we get something of JT’s soulful swing, a bit of JB’s star-crossed ache, and an agreeable interplay between the gentle but lively piano (a la Joel), with its cascading arpeggios, and some snappy acoustic guitar work. Tashian and Lehning were until recently doing business, in Nashville, as the Bees (U.S.); when they signed with Cheap Lullaby Records they changed their name to rid themselves once and for all of the conflict with the British band the Bees. Tashian, by the way, is the son of Barry Tashian, front man for the Remains, the legendary ’60s garage rock band from Boston (best known for the single “Don’t Look Back,” a highlight off the landmark Nuggets collection). “Imaginary Girl” is from the CD High Society, originally self-released in 2006, when the band was still the Bees; it’s slated for a national re-release on Cheap Lullaby next month. MP3 courtesy of Cheap Lullaby.

“Make a Plan” – Saturday Looks Good to Me

Deftly built with riffs and sounds and cheery vocals, “Make a Plan” is infused with a charming sort of handmade vibe, like something modeled unexpectedly yet expertly with masking tape and cardboard. The introduction is an immediate example of the odd but sturdy construction I’m talking about—first we get the buoyant acoustic strum, straight out of a Harry Belafonte record or some such thing, then a thin slice of vague and fuzzy electric guitar, which together are capped by a low, fat, echoey line of four descending notes from a different guitar finished off with that comic book-y flanging. The net effect is simultaneously solid and odd. Then comes the kind of kooky melody, a long downward trip of doubled notes, sung with unhurried flair by SLGTM multi-instrumentalist and mastermind Fred Thomas. And how much like Ray Davies is Thomas sounding here? A lot, says me, especially for a guy from Detroit, and more especially when the song hits full Kinks mode during the bridge, from 2:05 through 2:30. I like how a piano suddenly appears at this point too, as if someone had just rolled one into the room so, okay, might as well play it. Saturday Looks Good to Me is an ensemble with a revolving lineup; Thomas has apparently worked with more than 75 people towards the end of putting SLGTM records together since 2000. “Make a Plan” is from the outfit’s fourth full-length CD, Fill Up the Room, slated for release next week on K Records. The MP3 is courtesy of K.

“Headrush” – Hot Springs

Grinding, spunky rock’n’roll from yet another intriguing band from Montreal. This quartet’s distinctive sound is immediately dominated by the throaty, quavery voice of singer/guitarist Giselle Webber, who is in full command of what she’s doing. After studying the voices of classic jazz singers, Webber found a new way to use hers. “You can contort and find these extra pockets of air in your sinuses and deep down in your gut,” she told a Montreal newspaper a couple of years ago, “and eventually I learned that you can sculpt your voice in these crazy ways by fucking up sound inside your throat. That’s my favorite way to sing.” To be honest, I can’t claim that it’s my favorite voice to listen to, but the way Webber interacts with this stop-start-y, bottom-heavy music does have a sneaky appeal, combining a comfortable classic-rock drive with something fiercer and untamed. I like the chorus in particular, with its mixture of rushed triplets and dragged-out quarter notes, skipped drumbeats, and jumbled-together words (which are hard to decipher; the first line is “These glasses have been empty for too damn long”). Often I praise lyrics that scan impeccably with the music but for the sake of vehemence there is room in rock for songs in which the drive of the music requires the words to bend to its will. This kind of thing, I think, only works when the singer has a bit of “force of nature” about him or her; from what I’m hearing, I’d say Webber qualifies. “Headrush” is from the debut Hot Springs CD, Volcano (see? force of nature), released last month, in Canada, by the band’s Quire Records imprint, via the big label DKD. The MP3 is found on the band’s site.

“See These Bones” – Nada Surf

If this song sounds like a sharp, pristine relic from some disconcertingly long-ago day when songs were songs and bands were bands, one good reason for this is that Nada Surf has been around pretty much since those days—this Brooklyn-based trio formed back in 1992. Or, as they note on their MySpace page, “Nada Surf has been a band 10 years longer than most of their living peers have been out of a car seat.” Straightforward and memorable, “See These Bones” is given an assist out of the gate by a good opening line—“Everyone’s right and no one is sorry/That’s the start and the end of the story”—that in a nutshell describes the sociopolitical impasse in which we find ourselves. The heart of this one is clearly the glowing chorus, featuring one of those classic-sounding, power-pop-affiliated melodies that seems clearly to recall some other song or two (or five) and yet eludes specific identification. The lovely, pining voice of Matthew Caws is, as ever, the ideal vehicle for the soaring bittersweetness on display. “See These Bones” is a way-early peak at the band’s next CD, which will be called Lucky and is not scheduled for release on Barsuk Records until February ’08. The MP3 is via Barsuk Epitonic.

“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.