Category: MP3s

This Week’s Finds: December 4-10 (Kathleen Edwards, Suffering & the Hideous Thieves, Belle and Sebastian)

“In State” – Kathleen Edwards

If you already know Kathleen Edwards, you’ll be pleased to discover that she’s recently made ten full songs, five from each of her two CDs, available on her web site as free and legal MP3s. If you don’t already know her, use the opportunity to rectify the situation pronto. While Edwards is often compared, logically enough, to Lucinda Williams (the sweet-rough voice, the alt-country-americana vibe), what slayed me when I first heard her mighty first CD, Failer (2003), was how much she channeled Neil Young in his Crazy Horse mode. You maybe didn’t expect it from a skinny 25-year-old from Ottawa; then again, as I’ve discovered time and again, do not underestimate Canada as an endless source of powerful music. The revelatory “In State,” its muscular Tom Petty-ish-ness lit up by Edwards’ heart-melting voice and a ripping arrangement, is the opening track on her excellent follow-up release, Back to Me, which came out earlier this year on Zoe Records (a subsidiary of Rounder Records). If I were inclined to make year-end best-of lists, it’s a CD that would be in my top 10. Many thanks to Pop Matters for the lead on the new MP3 stash.



“I Will Always Find A Way” – Suffering and the Hideous Thieves

What an elusive vibe suffuses this song: it seems one part late ’70s punk-turning-into-new-wave, one part ’00s orchestral-indie-construction, and one part musician-from-another-planet epic. With its slow, swaying rhythm, “I Will Always Find A Way” makes the most of an exceedingly simple core riff (we’re talking do-re-mi-re-mi-re) by handing it to a loose-limbed ensemble mixing strings, drums, keyboards, and goofy background vocals. Band leader Jeff Suffering has a British-sounding, congestive sort of wail that is oddly appealing, particularly when he goes off-key, which appears to be part of his vocal strategy. As for the burning question–is this his real name, really?–I can report that he does seem to take the name rather literally, both within his songs and without. “I’ve been wishfully thinking of leaving you/Since the day that we met” are the first words we hear him sing, with what appears to be a characteristic blend of sorrow and defiance. The record company’s bio, in turn, quotes Suffering this way: “As of now, we will continue to put out obscure releases until the Lord comes back, or until we die, or can’t rock anymore.” “I Will Always Find A Way” is from the band’s Ashamed CD, released in August on Lujo Records.


“Another Sunny Day” – Belle and Sebastian

As charmingly twee and enigmatic as ever, Belle and Sebastian is back with a brisk, wonderfully melodic tune tinged with a slight, speeded-up country and western veneer, or as much of one as this eccentric Scottish band is likely to give us. Regardless of what he’s singing about (often impossible to discern precisely), front man Stuart Murdoch–his high voice at once pure and reedy–almost always sounds laden with unbearable nostalgia for some far-off time and place that is only reachable via a rabbit hole or a wardrobe or some such magical portal. Here Murdoch delivers a voluptuous melody line most effortlessly: the entire verse is an extended melody, all 16 measures of it (compare that to standard pop songs, with their four-measure melodies at best). The shift in melody and chord that happens at the seventh measure wollops me in the gut every time (in the first verse, it’s the shift that happens on the word “pardon” in the line “I told you, ‘Beg your pardon'”); we move there into a second minor chord that cracks the song open–listen to how deeply inevitable the rest of the verse sounds, even as it’s only half over at that point. And while you’re at it, check out the nutty double-time snare beat the drummer offers up during the instrumental break at 2:24, just because it’s nutty. “Another Sunny Day” is a song that will be on the band’s next CD, The Life Pursuit, scheduled for release in February on Matador Records.The MP3 is available via the Matador site via Better Propaganda. Thanks this time to Some Velvet Blog for the lead.

This Week’s Finds: Nov. 27-Dec. 3 (The Coral Sea, Catlow, The Southland)

“Look At Her Face” – the Coral Sea

A terrifically put together song from a Santa Barbara-based band with a good-looking future. Offering dynamics legitimately deserving of the overused adjective “cinematic,” the Coral Sea melds musical elements from a number of different decades, or maybe even centuries, to create an artfully assembled space that feels both layered and airy. The sense of urgency pervading the opening section is driven largely by the pulsings of a string quartet, of all things; when a simple, resonant piano line enters at 1:28, the song opens up magnificently, achieving a U2-esque grandeur even as singer/songwriter Rey Villalobos, with his sweet, pitch-perfect pop voice, keeps the enterprise rooted on earth rather than in the heavens somewhere. The son of a cinematographer (ah!), Villalobos is a classically-trained musician who lists Chopin among his influences; easier ones to pick out here might be the Beatles (John Lennon in particular), the Moody Blues, the Pixies, and Bends-era Radiohead, and yet this doesn’t really sound like any of them. “Look At Her Face” is the opening song on the band’s debut CD, Volcano and Heart, self-released under the Red Clover Records imprint in July. The MP3 is hosted on the band’s site. Thanks to the gang at 3hive for the lead.

“Number One” – Catlow

Wielding no obvious sonic gimmicks, no “listen to me, I’m different!” antics, Natasha Thirsk, doing business as Catlow, has crafted a remarkably unformulaic piece of punchy, three-minute neo-’90s guitar pop. From the opening, off-beat crunch of the guitar, the off-kilter entry of the bass, and the restrained drumbeat, the song manages to feel both march-like and arhythmic. Hooks come and go before they settle in, as if seen from the aural equivalent of the corner of the eye. Listen for instance to the descending riff heard first in the introduction (11 seconds in): it kind of melts in on itself, describing a slippery series of diminishments that are quickly folded into the stuttering drive, leaving you not quite sure what you heard and whether it even made sense or not. This riff, however, recurs, and becomes its own sort of mysterious hook when Thirsk works it into the melody at the end of each line of verse (the “I am I am I am” part in the first verse). The chorus, in turn, is even more elusively catchy, with the clipped stop-start-ishness of the crunchy guitar and its lack of melodic lines to hang onto; what we get instead is Thirsk’s light but powerful voice reaching successive climaxes before retreating in a sort of syncopated wave, falling then rising towards an unexpected chord that manages to lead us back to the verse without a traditional resolution. Thirsk comes from Vancouver, and gained a following late in the ’90s and into the new decade with her former band, the Dirtmitts. “Number One” is the lead track on Catlow’s debut CD, Kiss the World, released earlier this year in Canada on Boompa Records. The MP3 is via the Boompa site.

“Miles” – the Southland

Styles and tendencies in rock’n’roll tend to change pretty gradually when all is said and done, the definitive sound or sounds of one era blending seamlessly into another, and only emerging as definitive in retrospect–it’s much easier, as an example, to talk about a “’90s sound” now than it was back when we were living through it. And so the ’00s (more than half over already!) may seem so far to have produced a difficult-to-generalize sort of sound to date–particularly as there is by now such a longer and richer musical history for rock bands to be inspired by. I contend, however, that some characteristic sounds are emerging and this able and spiffy tune by a new L.A. band called the Southland pretty much nails one of them exquisitely. With its bedroom-rock-style mixture of acoustic and beat rhythms, “Miles” is not a song that could possibly have been produced in the ’60s or ’70s or ’80s or ’90s. I’m not saying this is gloriously original; actually the point is that it isn’t–but it is enormously characteristic, and beautifully crafted. What wins me is the memorable chorus, with its bittersweet melody and that great, marshmallowy slide-guitar lick. “Miles” is a song from the Southland’s debut CD, Influence of Geography, released in June on Ruffworld Records. The MP3 is via the Ruffworld site.

This Week’s Finds: Nov. 20-26 (Gustav & The Seasick Sailors, Pela, XTC)

“Nightlife” – Gustav & the Seasick Sailors

From its mellow Bruce Hornsby-ish piano introduction, this song picks up a crisp beat and some Hammond B3 accents even as it retains vague jazz-pop stylings (Steely Dan-ish chords, stuttering drumbeats) through the opening verse. But everything is a set-up for the brilliant chorus, in which the 21-year-old Gustav (born, it must be noted, without a right hand; he wears a special device to allow him to hold a pick) sings an irresistible melody, at once beautiful and anthemic, that seems like something John Mellencamp was trying to write but never quite managed to some 15 or 20 years ago. For a young guy, Gustav breathes out a fetching, Steve Earle-ish sort of weariness as he lets go of his syllables. While I’m not sure we’re venturing into lyrical profundity here, the music makes it irrelevant to me. “Nightlife” is the lead track off Gustav & the Seasick Sailors’ debut CD, Vagabond’s Polka, which was released last year on Marilyn Records. The MP3 is hosted on the Marilyn web site. A 10-person collective from Sweden, Gustav & the Seasick Sailors are scheduled to release a second CD early in 2006.

“Episodes (Diphenhydramine)” – Pela

I have discovered a previously unrecognized affection in my musical tastes for the sort of voice that Pela singer Billy Swanson has. I will now describe it: okay, I can’t describe it, not really, other than to say it’s high, somewhat roughed-up, vaguely muffled and yet also incisive, with a keen edge. Beyond Swanson’s immediate appeal, this strikes me as a cool song for a variety of reasons. To begin with, it utilizes the trick of having the accompanying music playing twice as fast as the melody line, which achieves the pleasing effect of it seeming like a fast slow song or a slow fast song. I also like the mysterious use of wordless vocal accents in the extended bridge-like section after the verse–by now we completely buy into the sense of movement and urgency, and yet the resolution is delayed by those ghostly “aaahs.” The underlying sense of tension increases when Swanson dives next into his lower register (“as if I really knew myself,” he sings, with an unexpected bit of Morrisseyan phrasing). Then arrives the great release with the strange one-word chorus (“Diphenhydramine”—which is by the way an antihistamine), sung with a fluttery array of chiming guitars floating almost out of earshot in the background. This song was one of five on the Brooklyn-based band’s debut EP, All in Time, released back in May on the Brassland label. The MP3 comes via the Brassland site.

“Spiral” – XTC

Sometimes you just want the real thing, even if the real thing isn’t quite as real and thing-like as it used to be. This “new” XTC song has been floating around the internet for a couple of weeks; I heard it when it first came out (thanks, Largehearted Boy!), and put it aside. Did it move me to tears? Did it make me swear that Andy Partridge is still a god-like master of the three-minute, fifteen-second pop song? Um, no. I loved this band in its day, and then some. But days move on, decades without names roll by, and the fine line between a groove and a rut (thanks, Christine Lavin) grows intractably indistinguishable. And yet: even awash in nostalgia (talk about a groove, the spiral in question is the path the phonograph needle traces while converting plastic to soundwave), the song is rich and smile-inducing, for its jaunty melody, effervescent instrumentation, and other bounteous XTC-isms: the fast-slow shifts in pace, the distinctive chord changes, and Partridge’s inimitable goofy-earnest yowl. If these guys exist in their own particular bubble of sound and space, so be it. I suggest a visit now and then. And while I might not steer you towards the extravagant re-boxing of the band’s most recent two Apple Venus CDs from which this tune (recorded in the ’99-’00 time frame) emerges, I urge you to discover or rediscover English Settlement (1982), Skylarking (1986), or the somewhat more recent and underrated Nonsuch (1992).

This Week’s Finds: Nov. 13-19 (Kids These Days, The A-Sides, Tapes ‘n Tapes)

“Intoxicated” – Kids These Days

Wow: an instantly appealing song that proceeds to unfold in unanticipated ways. The chimey double guitar lines in the introduction lay out an initial melody both simple and memorable, playing as it does with the ever-engaging fourth interval. (Fourths tend to keep the ear in a satisfying state of suspension, you see.) I like also how in the introduction the intervals are not expressed cleanly, but are scuffed up with well-placed dissonances between the twin guitars. When the singing starts, the verse first affirms the melody (already sounding like an old friend) then glides into the effortless chorus; I love the effect of having the lyrics come up shorter than the musical line, leaving an instrumental measure that’s just as much a part of the chorus as the words. And then, after two rounds of that, the song shifts–the rhythm section becomes itchier and lead singer Marc Morrissette explores the higher end of his range, giving the second half of the song an unexpectedly effective Radiohead-ian vibe. Kids These Days are a five-man band (all five write songs, apparently) from Vancouver; “Intoxicated” is a track from the band’s debut CD, All These Interruptions, released this past spring in Canada on White Whale Records. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the lead.


“Sidewalk Chalk” – the A-Sides

I like how the garagey stomp that opens this song is incorporated into a shimmeringly upbeat bit of neo-power pop–it sounds cool, and also encapsulates this Philadelphia band’s approach, which seems to draw simultaneously from two divergent ’60s sounds: garage-rock psychedelia (think Nuggets) on the one hand, glistening orchestral pop (think Pet Sounds) on the other. The interesting result of this particular blend is how much more emerges in the sound beyond mere revival of the A-Sides’ seemingly obvious, and admirable, influences (Kinks, Who, Beach Boys). Tuning more carefully in to the song’s various charms–including a smiley descending melody and some great guitar interplay (Beatley lines contrasting with psychedelic howling)–I sensed the influences and confluences multiply. Now I’m hearing Robyn Hitchcock, I’m hearing XTC, I’m even hearing the Strokes–and I begin to realize how it’s really the band’s own spirit and musical capacities that I’m hearing most of all. While some rock’n’roll has appeared on the scene as if from another dimension entirely, most of the best stuff over the years is neither more nor less than a skillful distillation of previously available ideas. Picking out influences can be fun and instructive if the point is to understand a piece of music in a broader context; when influence-spotting becomes a reductive game (as it, sadly, does quite frequently with online music criticism), then this usually says more about the writer than the musician. “Sidewalk Chalk” is the lead track on the A-Sides’ debut full-length CD, Hello, Hello, released in May on Prison Jazz Records. The MP3 is available via the band’s site.


“Cowbell” – Tapes ‘n Tapes

Cross They Might Be Giants with Pere Ubu and here you are. This is two and a half minutes of continuously strange, mysteriously catchy avant-pop. Driven by a rubbery bass, twitchy acoustic guitar, and slightly strangled vocals, “Cowbell” threw its first verse by me so quickly I didn’t realize exactly what I was listening to, and then the chorus started and I really didn’t know what I was listening to but I was completely hooked: the off-beat, villainous-sounding, sing-along melody is too cool for its own good. Tapes ‘n Tapes is a Minneapolis threesome that’s been around since 2003, if the band’s web site can be believed, which it doesn’t look like it should be. “Cowbell” comes from the band’s first CD, The Loon, just released on Ibid Records. You’ll find the MP3 on band’s site.

This Week’s Finds: Oct. 30-Nov. 5 (Rocky Votolato, World Leader Pretend, La Laque)

“White Daisy Passing” – Rocky Votolato

What’s the difference between a boring, doleful singer/songwriter and compelling, doleful singer/songwriter? Aurally, not a whole helluva lot, sometimes. And yet it’s this difference—which hits me clearly in the gut even as it’s tricky to articulate—that allows me to like Elliott Smith and yet all too often really not like people who sound like Elliott Smith. And yet here’s Rocky Votolato, all sweet-voiced and whispery, and yup, he grabs me right away. Maybe it’s the crispness of the rhythm guitar. He may be sweet and whispery, but the song moves. This movement is based in both tempo and structure, as Votolato gets a lot out of the ever-engaging, Jackson Browne-ian relationship between a major chord and its relative minor (the introduction, for instance, is major; when he starts singing, he’s in the relative minor, a pleasant but definite shift). Note too the sense of movement stemming from how he starts the chorus on the upbeat, straight out of the verse, and then leads us through a chord progression that pivots on a seventh chord. This seems particularly striking as he’s getting just then to the saddest part of the song. (Seventh chords are usually good-timey things.) The lyric at this point is almost mind-blowingly painful, yet easy to miss in the strummy flow of the whole thing, so check it out: “I’m going down to sleep/On the bottom of the ocean/’Cause I couldn’t let go/When the water hit the setting sun.” “White Daisy Passing” will be on Votolato’s debut CD, Makers, scheduled for a January 2006 release on Barsuk Records. The MP3 is up on the Barsuk site.


“Bang Theory” – World Leader Pretend

Maybe I’m crazy, but I’m beginning to sense an interesting rapprochement in the musical world that seems completely opposed to the tense polarity that suffuses the political world here in the U.S. in the new century. I’m hearing sounds that have for many years been rejected or ridiculed (for no actual good reason) seeping their way back into public awareness. ELO and early Elton John are popping up on store sound systems everywhere I go, making things seem happy and connected, and none of it somehow sounds like an accident. What this has to do with the New Orleans quintet World Leader Pretend, I’m not exactly sure, except that there’s something in the big, swaggering sound here that reminds me of a neglected past, and bands I maybe used to make fun of (um, Simple Minds, for one), and now I don’t really want to make fun. (“Can’t we all just get along” and all that.) Okay, so lead singer Keith Ferguson teeters on the edge of macho-breathy histrionics—to my ears, the band creates such a large, burnished space for him to do it in, full of classic-sounding melodies and catchy instrumental refrains, that it all makes some kind of crazy messy sense. “Bang Theory” is the first song on the band’s major-label debut, Punches; released on Warner Brothers Records in June, the label appears yet to be trying to work at some indie-like web buzz to get it going. If that means actually putting this free and legal MP3 out (via Filter), I’m all for it.



“Secret” – La Laque

Then again, maybe in the long run we prefer the sort of breathy histrionics likely to emerge from a band with a French name and a sultry lead singer singing in French. All the better if the band is from New York City, and the lead singer sings in French primarily because she’s too shy to sing in English. La Laque is further notable for being a six-piece band, which is an unusual size in the annals of rock—and all the more unusual for its being made up of three men and three women. For all the apparent novelty of the music, this turns out to be an unusual song in less obvious ways as well, particularly for how it manages to sound at once like an ironic piece of chamber airiness and a chugging bit of post-punk-power-pop. Listen with admiration as “Secret” picks up a whole lot of drum-and-guitar noise in and around the violins after the minute and a half mark, yet does so with such ongoing panache that the band doesn’t seem to break a sweat. “Secret” was one half of a shared single with the band Pas/Cal that was released on Romantic Air Records in June. The MP3 is available via the Romantic Air site.

This Week’s Finds: October 23-29

“Darkest Birds” – Nine Horses

David Sylvian is something of a self-contained and overlooked country in the geography of rock’n’roll history. From his teenaged beginnings in the band Japan—a Roxy Music-like art-glam-rock turned synth-pop band of the ’70s and early ’80s–Sylvian went on to pursue a left-of-center artistic path through the ’80s and ’90s. There were diffuse, ambiant-like solo recordings, featuring collaborations with like-minded experimental spirits such as Robert Fripp, Bill Nelson, and Ryuichi Sakamoto; there were forays into photography and avant-garde art installations; most recently came a solo CD of disconcertingly spare and challenging songs (2003’s Blemish). In other words, he has kept busy doing all sorts of interesting things while remaining entirely obscure to the mass of music listeners here in the fad-crazy U.S. (Sylvian’s is the sort of career, come to think of it, that seems possible only in Europe, unless you’re maybe Laurie Anderson.) In the wake of Blemish‘s creative break/breakthrough comes Nine Horses, which finds Sylvian working with his brother Steve Jansen and an electronic composer/remixer with the arresting name of Burnt Friedman. On “Darkest Birds,” Sylvian’s husky, Bowie-meets-Ferry vibrato mixes luxuriously and effectively with an intimate, floaty, jazz-trumpet-accented verse and a louder, percussive chorus, both grounded in an organic-sounding wash of blippy electronica. Expect it to grow on you with repeated listens. “Darkest Birds” is the second track on the new Nine Horses CD “Snow Borne Sorrow,” released last week on Sylvian’s Samadhisound label. The MP3 is available via the sleek, artsy Samadhisound site.

“Catch a Collapsing Star” – the Mendoza Line

With a melody and spirit harkening back to the Dylanized ’60s, “Catch a Collapsing Star” is as friendly as the corner pub, as crisp as an autumn afternoon, as happy-wistful as an old letter. I think I’ve become heedlessly, foolishly in love with Shannon McArdle’s voice (first discussed when her other band, Slow Dazzle, was a TWF pick in August); her open, yearning sweetness mixes innocence and wisdom with uncanny balance. I’ll try not to resent too much that she sings lead on only one verse here, as the lead vocals are otherwise handled by (I think!) band mate Timothy Bracy. Then again, his raspy Steve Earle-ishness is really rather engaging as well, as is the nuanced mix of looseness and tightness on display throughout this rollicking tune. “Catch a Collapsing Star” will be found on the band’s next CD, Full of Light and Fire, to be released next month on Misra Records. The MP3 is available via the Misra site.

“Words That I Employ” – Coach Said Not To

So this one starts like something unhinged and way-too-quirky-indie: a tick-tocky toy-like chiming noise and a woman’s voice speak-singing an incomprehensible torrent of words. Some may immediately like this; me, I was just about ready to send the file to the Recycle Bin, but…I’m not sure. Something in the tone of the voice, something in the knowing flow of instrumentation, and then–wow, listen to the centering, glorious note singer Eva Mohn hits at 40 seconds, singing the word “sweet” (the lyric is: “Well that’s so sweet/It makes me sick/It makes me sick and happy for you”). My goodness, she’s got a real voice, and by real I don’t mean necessarily beautiful (although it is, rather) or melodious but real as in full of depth and character. Likewise the band: they may herk and jerk with the best of them, but there is great strength of purpose and execution in their sound. I love the big, faux-classic-rock break in the middle section, around 1:30; and then best of all I love the subsequent return to the “that’s so sweet” phrase–the note she sings at 2:23 melts the heart and nails the song, which now seems a satisfying, complete whole rather than a quirky parade of parts. The band name, by the way, comes, apparently, from a pamphlet the band members once saw detailing 101 ways to turn down a sexual invitation; they are number 71. “Words That I Employ” is a song off the band’s debut, self-titled EP, which was released last year. A new three-song EP is due out shortly. The MP3 is available via band’s site.

This Week’s Finds: October 16-22 (The Happy Bullets, 31Knots, Bill Ricchini)

“The Vice and Virtue Ministry” – the Happy Bullets

Intertwining guitars, at once loopy and dainty, set the stage for this brisk, assured, and endlessly delightful tune. I am especially taken with lead singer Jason Roberts’ fetching falsetto leaps—I love how his voice just flies upward at the end of a few key phrases, most of all when it happens so much in the middle of a lyrical line that he has to drop again as quickly as he went up. A five-piece band from Dallas (which includes Angela Roberts, Jason’s wife, on bass), the Happy Bullets made the happy decision to work with producer Stuart Sikes (who has worked with Modest Mouse, the White Stripes, and the Walkmen, among others), whose sure touch enlivens this song in many different ways. I am unaccountably charmed, as an example, by the subtle acoustic strum that leads into the second verse (at 0:39), arising out of a maracas-like shaking sound just introduced out of the original loopy guitar line. And then of course there’s the brilliant infusion of Kinks-ish spirit on display throughout. Being influenced by the Kinks is (praise the lord) no longer a novelty on the rock’n’roll scene, but I don’t know that I’ve heard a 21st-century band take Ray Davies so delightfully into the here and now as these guys do. This isn’t an homage and it’s not nostalgia; Roberts doesn’t even sound like Davies in any particular way. And yet this song so thoroughly embodies some key Kinksian vibe that if Davies had come of age in the ’00s rather than the ’60s his band I think would sound something very much like this. “The Vice and Virtue Ministry” is the title track from the Happy Bullets’ second CD, released regionally in March on Undeniable Records; the album is set for a national release on November 1. The MP3 is available via the band’s site.

“Chain Reaction” – 31 Knots

And now for something completely different: dense, complex, guitar-heavy neo-progressive rock from the Portland, Ore.-based trio 31 Knots. And yet I would not be here to foist this upon you if it were all intricate stop-start-y math-rock bloviation. Guitarist Joe Haerge plays with distinction, variation, and purpose, maintaining a shifting, surging energy throughout this long but engaging song. I’m thinking that not enough bands that record songs over five minutes understand how rewarding a more complex approach to song can be. Go back to those old Genesis records and you’ll see that the songs were six, seven, eight minutes because they went places. The best part of “Chain Reaction” may well be the last two minutes, during which an intense instrumental break leads into a wholly new section of the song, including perhaps the most rewarding melodies of the whole piece. We’ve gotten a little too used to endless repetition padding out five-minute songs; here instead is a six-minute song that ends climactically, and leaves you wanting more. “Chain Reaction” comes from the band’s fourth CD, Talk Like Blood, released last week on Polyvinyl Records. The MP3 is available via the Polyvinyl site.

“I Just Can’t Fall In Love” – Bill Ricchini

And now consider this song, in yoga terms, to be the “counter-posture” to the previous song: open, flowing, melodic—an unabashedly “pop” song to re-wire the brain after all that intense intricacy. Here the hook is a simple-as-can-be five-note descent at the end of two of the four verse lines. Why does it slay me so? And yet it does, particularly when harmony vocals are added the second time around. The good-natured, ’70s-style vibe pumps the song along at a nice clip, but it’s that five-note descent that makes the song for me, and how well-suited it is to Ricchini’s yearning, bittersweet voice. On another day maybe it’s not enough to hang a song upon, but, hey, the sun is shining, the leaves are falling, and there’s only so much intensity I can take in one sitting. Born and raised in Philadelphia, where he recorded his first CD bedroom-style to much acclaim, Ricchini is now New York City-based and signed to a small label. “I Just Can’t Fall In Love” is from his second CD, Tonight I Burn Brightly, released in August on Transdreamer Records. The song is available through Music.download.com.

This Week’s Finds: October 9-15 (Flotation Toy Warning, Nicole Atkins, Le Reno Amps)

“Popstar Researching Oblivion” – Flotation Toy Warning

“Popstar Researching Oblivion” has the sort of fully-realized ecstatic sonic goofiness that MP3 collectors like to link to the Flaming Lips but harkens more firmly back to the likes of 10cc, Genesis (yes, they actually had a sense of humor), and Queen. One of the things this quintet from London does with much aplomb is present a straightforward melody via a crazy quilt of sounds–a neat effect not unlike the more widely acknowledged pop effect of singing sad lyrics to happy music. In this case, the end result is a satisfying confusion: the ear hears complexity and simplicity overlappingly, which somehow resolves the polarity. First, the song’s basic, recurring melody, a line of lullaby-like gentleness, is introduced via a searing guitar solo (itself an interesting juxtaposition). The same melody is then re-delivered via layers of soaring and diving sounds, some vocal and some electronic and some created by who-knows-what, weaving and interacting in ways that are specifically elusive and yet link in the ear as an organic whole. Singer Donald Drusky’s earnest British tenor, recalling a somewhat huskier version of Robert Wyatt, is the perfect vocal instrument for the dreamy loopiness of it all; the homely yet graceful horns arriving to mingle with the electronics during the second half of this strangely haunting number are yet more perfect. “Popstar Researching Oblivion” comes from the band’s debut CD, Bluffer’s Guide to the Flight Deck, released in the U.S. in August on Misra Records (the CD was originally released last year in the U.K. on Pointy Records). The MP3 is available on the Misra site.


“Skywriters” – Nicole Atkins

If Chrissie Hynde were Jeff Tweedy’s sister and Roy Orbison were their uncle…oh, never mind. I’m losing patience with my effort to create evocative analogies. But there’s no denying the Hynde-like timbre in this NYC-based singer/songwriter’s voice, nor the touching, earnest early ’60s vibe infusing this shimmering, knowingly produced song. As for the Wilco connection, well, listen to those chord changes (check out for example where she goes with the word “the” in the phrase “the people below” in the chorus). And that unexpectedly intense guitar work that kicks in around 1:48. And the fact that it’s really hard to follow what she’s singing about, even as it doesn’t sound all that complicated either. Let the song loop in your media player for a while and see how its various charms unfold. In the end I maybe like the ghostly, plucky, chiming synthesizer (?) line from the introduction most of all–at once weird and comforting, it brings me back a few generations musically for no reason I can particularly identify. “Skywriters” is one of nine songs on her first CD, Party’s Over, self-relesaed earlier this year. The MP3 is available via The Deli.


“Once You Know” – Le Reno Amps

Scotland’s answer to They Might Be Giants, Le Reno Amps are two guys (Scott and Al) from Aberdeen with an idiosyncratic sense of song, playful ideas about making lo-fi production come to life, and an enviable knack for melody. The modus operandi is stripped-down, always geared around their two voices and two guitars. But there’s goofiness in the air too, lending an ineffable magic to the aural landscape. “Once You Know” sounds like it was recorded in a gym, with bouncing balls and/or stamping feet ingeniously employed as the rhythm section for this sharp and sprightly down-home ditty. The song gets off to a great start based on melody alone; when the “percussion” kicks in with the second verse, ably accented by some hardy background “hey!”s, the song is unstoppable. The fully-whistled verse that starts at 1:14 appears at that point both a crazy surprise and utterly inevitable. “Once You Know” is from Le Reno Amps’ archly-titled debut CD LP, released under their own (ha-ha) Vanity Project imprint last year. The MP3 is up on the band’s site. A second CD is apparently in the works for these guys, due out some time in 2006.

This Week’s Finds: October 2-8 (Ezra Reich, Dirty Three, The Spectacular Fantastic)

“I Need A Moment Alone” – Ezra Reich

One part Bryan Ferry, one part B-52s, one part style-fixated NYC-based 21st-century rock’n’roller, Ezra Reich is, no doubt about it, just plain goofy. I can’t claim to be big into musicians who throw a lot of energy into their “look,” as such concern seems inevitably over-calculated. On the other hand, rock’n’roll history nevertheless indicates that one can never rule out a musician simply because he or she does cares about image/style, as there have been any number of worthy musicians (David Bowie, David Byrne, Prince, and the aforementioned Mr. Ferry come to mind) whose incisive sense of style was part of a rewarding musical package. One could also argue that a resolute lack of interest in so-called style can become its own sort of style (the entire grunge movement was more or less grounded in such an idea). In the end we listen with our ears, and in this case, my ears tell me this song is a fun, accomplished piece of pop, fusing elements of ’80s synth-pop with Prince-ian bits of campy funk and who knows what else. It works unaccountably well, probably because if you’re going to go over the top, you may as well go all the damned way. For me, when the female backup singer asks “You need a moment?” at 59 seconds, with all that deadpan come-hitherness, in the middle of an unexpected paean to self-reflection, well, I was pretty much hooked. “I Need A Moment Alone” is a song off Reich’s soon-to-be self-released CD, Milkshake Arcade, which will be his second album. The MP3 is available via his site. Thanks to the redoubtable Largehearted Boy for the head’s up.

“Doris” – the Dirty Three

I’m continually fascinated by rock’n’roll instrumentals, even as I remain skeptical of liking all that many. But every now and then one sneaks up and grabs me. “Doris,” from the veteran Australian trio Dirty Three, has a few great things going for it, from my perspective. Right away I love how the sharp, sliding rhythm is established by that great high-and-squonky guitar in the intro, and then how another guitar saws away with fuzzy fury at the bottom end of the sound. Aural landscape thus established, the middle part of the song is one grand, determined racket created by the unhinged interplay between an assortment of other, hitherto acoustic instruments (among which may be violin, mandolin, viola, and bagpipes), all underscored by the relentless beat, even as the drummer takes a backseat to the wild, vaguely Irish-sounding bray. It has the feel of a folk dance from the distant, re-forested future. About two and a half minutes in, the steady drummer re-emerges to drive this intense piece of music through its passionate conclusion. Dancers fall to the ground, exhausted and transcendent. “Doris” is a track from Dirty Three’s new CD, Cinder, slated for release next week on Touch and Go Records.

“Darkest Hour” – the Spectacular Fantastic

And leave it to the Big Star-ian Cincinnati combo known as the Spectacular Fantastic to bring us back to solid ground with this brisk, likable, power-poppy chestnut. There may be nothing here my head hasn’t sort of kind of heard before, but on the other hand, the sheer delight that courses through me as I listen tells my head that it is not my body’s only musical input device. Though my head sure does enjoy taking what delights my heart and figuring out solid “reasons” for that delight. So, here, in the chorus, an effect I always love: how the melody associated with the words (in this case, “In the darkest hour”) pulls up short of the harmonic resolution, which carries on afterwards, in the background, with that agreeably cheesy synthesizer line leading us into the resolving chord. The melody and chord pattern is pure basic traditional pop (straight out of “Heart and Soul”) but performed with, yes, heart and soul by Mike Detmer and crew, this is music that will always sound fresh and vibrant to me. “Darkest Hour” is a song off the Spectacular Fantastic’s new CD, The Spectacular Fantastic Goes Underground, released this week on Ionik Recordings. The MP3 resides on the band’s site.

This Week’s Finds: Sept. 25-Oct. 1 (Aberdeen City, The Bridge Gang, Delaney)

“God Is Going To Get Sick of Me” – Aberdeen City

Straddling the thin-wide line that forever separates Coldplay and Radiohead is the Boston quartet Aberdeen City, at least as they display their wares in this itchy, sharply-produced, knowingly melodic song. Lead singer Brad Parker, who also plays bass, sounds a lot like Thom Yorke and yet more solid and approachable, uninclined to take his powerful tenor towards the warbly stratosphere. As a matter of fact, the way Parker lays back in this song, allows himself to stay reined in by the hard-charging guitars that burst with creative authority in and out of the mix, sets up a transcendent moment three-quarters of the way through: the imperceptible, breath-taking glide he takes to move to the higher register between the phrases “support gets stronger” and “each time something”–well, that just nailed the whole thing down for me somehow. In addition to listening to the song, I suggest visiting the Aberdeen City web site, which features some truly arresting imagery related to the band’s new CD The Freezing Atlantic: the bleak panorama offered is nearly sublime in its evocation of the ocean’s terrifying day-to-day majesty, never mind the juxtaposition of the mysterious wrapped and upright bodies, some of which fade in and out of view. “God Is Going To Get Sick Of Me” is the third track on the new CD, the band’s first full-length effort, scheduled for release on Dovecote Records next month.


“Pangs of Guilt” – the Bridge Gang

With the harsh but beguiling charm of an early Clash single, “Pangs of Guilt” delivers two brisk minutes of that affecting sort of rock’n’roll that’s both very straightforward and oddly edgy. (Cross perhaps the Pixies and the Cars and maybe you’re part of the way there, if you keep Jonathan Richman in your head as well; hm, these guys are from London but maybe they should’ve been from Boston?) The guitars have that “we just plugged them in and turned the amp on too loud” sound, the lead singer José (no last name to be found) yowls the sparse but engaging melody with no concern for his vocal cords, and the one-line chorus has the gut-satisfying resolution of classic garage rock. The Bridge Gang is a relatively new three-piece band with just a few recorded songs to date. “Pangs of Guilt” is a downloadable single made available via London-based Dogbox Records in the spring of this year.


“A Quoi Bon” – Delaney

There’s something both fresh and comfortable-sounding in this homespun bit of trip-hoppy sing-songiness. Parisienne Christelle Delaney has a teetery pitch and a deadpan delivery that joins the beat-driven vibe with a what-the-heck sort of consonance. There’s not that much to it–she basically repeats the same simple melody over and over, but the interplay of her voice, the giddily percussive acoustic guitars, and the spiffy beat is a tasty aural treat to my disaster-soaked ears. Be sure not to miss the oddball instrumental coda that starts at 2:43: first we get deliberate, off-kilter keyboard chords, then we get an increasingly assertive sort of stretchy-crunchy sound rising to the forefront, along with some random tinkles, before everything draws demurely to a close. The 33-year-old Delaney was 25 when she recorded “A Quoi Bon” for her self-titled debut CD; released in France in 1998, the disc just saw the light of day in the U.S. earlier this month, courtesy of L.A.’s introspective Pehr Records. Thanks as always to the hard-working humans at 3hive for the lead.